Red Passion
by Miss.Full.of.Light
Summary: It was supposed to be a one-time thing, a mistake. But when you're a vampire, life is blood, and blood binds.
1. Chapter 1

**"It was supposed to be a one-time thing, a mistake. But when you're a vampire, life is blood, and blood binds."**

* * *

**A/N: Hey there, you all! I don't even know why I'm starting a new story given my terrible attention span and how slow I am at updating, but I guess this is mostly only about me wanting to write something smuttier and more Klaus/Caroline centric than **_**My Brother's Girlfriend**_**. So yeah, it's sort of an experiment, I suppose. And, after all, you can't say no to inspiration when it strikes, given how fickle of a little, annoying thing she is. Meh. But please, do let me know if you think this is actually worth continuing or just a waste of both my and your time. I already have the second chapter fully written, but I'm only going to publish it if I see that enough people are interested in this story.**

**Just so you know, this is set in season five but I'm changing some things. Nothing major really, you'll see, except for the whole The Originals plot thing which, yeah, is not going to happen here. Like, **_**ever**_**. As long as I'm concerned, Klaus only ever went to New Orleans to deal with the Marcel situation and that's it. I'm sure that will make this story much more enjoyable for everybody because, **_**seriously**_**,**** I'm not trying to write some cheap telenovela à la Plec, I have standards.**

**As always, thank you to Bethany (MarsterRoo) for checking this over for me, and for not having tried to virtually choke me—**_**yet**_**—for all these weird things I send her. And also kudos to Giorgia (seriouslymilady) for the beautiful cover.**

**Hope you enjoy this,**

**Giulia.**

* * *

It's her twentieth birthday and she's spending it alone in some unknown, sleazy bar just outside of Mystic Falls—in Caroline Forbes' book, that's _definitely_ hitting rock bottom.

Sighing, she mindlessly plays with the bright pink straw of her SoCo and Lime, thinking back to how different this very same day had been just one year before, spent with her friends and Tyler–

(–but Tyler was gone now and her friends had never really cared enough about her anyway).

It's not like she wants to play blame and put it all on them—_no_, she loves Bonnie and Elena, and Matt, and Stefan too—but her whole life she had always tried too hard to fit into a group that she just wasn't meant to be a part of, and she was only now realizing that, maybe, if she had seen a little earlier that you can't choose your friends simply based on how they look or where they stand on the so-called 'social ladder', then her life would be different.

She would still be human (_did she even really want that?_), and not a vampire. She would probably be having a blast of a birthday party right now, and not trying to suppress the urge to rip into someone's artery and feed on them until she couldn't anymore.

_Yes_—it definitely wasn't a very good day.

Her teen years were officially over but she would be staying seventeen forever, and it just felt like someone had suddenly dumped a bucket full of freezing cold water on her head, making her realize just how many things were wrong in her life.

And she _did_ miss some things from being human—_God_, if she did—like dreaming of her two point five kids and white picket fence, but now she was _immortal_, was she really going to complain? _No_. She didn't want to play _Miss Big Morals_ anymore—wherever had that gotten her so far? _Nowhere_—if she was going to live forever, technically able to do whatever she wanted to do—it was time to finally start taking full advantage of that.

Gulping down another moderate sip of her drink, she looks around the little bar, searching for an adequate victim. Caroline herself is not quite sure what she actually means by _victim_—(she cringes), she doesn't want to become someone's _Damon_—but she is thirsty for something that certainly isn't alcohol, and badly needs to scratch an itch left unrelieved since far before her and Tyler even broke up.

"This looks oddly familiar," an accented voice that she knows far too well speaks, its owner now sitting on the stool next to hers as if he had been there the whole time.

Caroline turns to look at Klaus, dislike obvious in both her glare and annoyed tone. "What? You _stalking_ me?"

Klaus chuckles lightly, looking at her as intensely as ever. "Me finding you helpless on your birthday."

She scoffs, easily. "If I remember correctly, last time was _your_ fault."

He shrugs. "I did quite good in saving you then, though."

(It doesn't seem half as long, but _then _is two years ago already).

"Well, I don't need any saving this time," she snaps, going back to nursing her drink.

Klaus arches his eyebrows, skeptically. "If you say so, love. But I can see you definitely need something stronger to _quench your hunger_," he comments flirtatiously—and, _God_, can she _slap_ him? _Please_.

As he effortlessly compels himself a glass of expensive Scotch and her a Sex on the Beach, Caroline takes a minute to fully take in his profile, with his strong and defined jaw and the hints of a stubble making him even more impossibly attractive.

Groaning, she closes her eyes shut—it was _so unfair_. Klaus was evil and she was supposed to hate him, and yet, there he sat all hot and sexy with that stupid leather jacket of his and all she wanted to do was jump on him and feel—_ugh_. _Bad Caroline_, _baaad_.

Why did the Devil always have to come in such a shiny (ahem, _fucking fuckable_) packet?

"Something the matter, love?"

Caroline snaps back to the present, her stare focusing onto Klaus', noticing his eyes dancing with obvious amusement.

Warily, she accepts the drink he was offering her–

–offering was a big word, because—_compulsion_, anyone?—but _yeah_–

–and ducks her head in the attempt to hide her far from pure thoughts from his scrutinizing gaze.

_Why did she always feel like he could read right through her mind?_

She can still feel his intense stare on her, making goosebumps rise on her skin—was it fear? Discomfort? _Anticipation_? (Maybe a combination of the three).

"So, tell me, love," Klaus picks up the conversation again. "How did you end up celebrating your birthday here of all places?" he asks, looking around the small bar in displeasure, but sounding genuinely curious.

Caroline snorts. "Why? Where should I be celebrating it?" _Rome, Paris, Tokyo._

"With your so-called _friends_?" he suggests, and doesn't even try to hide just _how much_ he dislikes those friends.

"Yeah, right. Bonnie's finally back from the dead, which means Elena's only life purpose is once again switching from one Salvatore to another—nobody could care less that it's my birthday," she takes a huge, almost desperate, gulp of her drink. "I'm not sure I do either, to be honest," she adds, almost as an afterthought, but Klaus can see how much it hurts her, really.

He regards her tenderly—not sympathetically or as if she is being pathetic and petty—wondering how anybody could ever have somebody as bright and beautiful as Caroline in their life and not treasure her, not putting everything they could into making her feel important and special. If it were up to him, he knew he would do anything he could to make her feel loved, and he would find a million ways to celebrate the magnificent day that she had been born into this otherwise dark, dull world.

"_I _care, love," he corrects her with a small but honest smile, so different from his usual overconfident smirks that she has to take in a little breath to steady herself. _She is not falling for that_.

Back to her bitchy mode after less than a millisecond, Caroline scoffs, rolling her eyes dramatically. "_Please_. Just cut the charade, Klaus. I promise you that we are not working on any plan to kill you at the moment, so there really is nothing that you can possibly want from me."

Klaus' gaze hardens, his dark blue eyes fusing into hers without her consent, making it impossible for her to look away.

"Don't downplay what I feel for you, Caroline," he warns, his jaw ticking. He sounds almost dangerous, something that Caroline is not used to associating with him—and, _how stupid_ is that? He's _Klaus_. Dangerous is his middle name.

But, _really—_how is she actually supposed to know that he has never tried to _woo_ anyone before? That he has never fallen for a girl like he has for her right here and right now, never cared for someone outside of his family like he does towards her? How is she supposed to know just how impossibly troubled he is with the fact that she never quite seems to take him seriously on his affections?

Caroline releases a shaky breath that she didn't even know she was holding, finally finding the strength to look away from his consuming stare, although realizing that she doesn't exactly want to.

"I don't."

"Yes, you do. Every time. Why can't you just believe that I'm being genuine with you?" he asks, sounding almost pained, desperate, showing a vulnerability which isn't like him at all, and it's _scary_. It's scary how different she can see that he is with her, because it's not supposed to be this way. _He_ is not supposed to be this way. Ever. He's the enemy–

–_he's incapable of real feelings_.

Caroline scoffs, flinching slightly at the hint of hurt that flashes through Klaus' eyes for a second before his mask of indifference is back.

(_That_, she can handle).

"Are you _seriously_ asking me that?" she snaps again, raising her voice far more than it is polite to in an after all public place. "You're a _monster_! You've hurt all the people I care about–you've hurt _me_. You can't even see that is what this little, creepy anniversary of ours is, can you? The first time you saved me from _yourself_. That's _disgusting_," she shouts, sprinting up from her barstool with every intention of leaving that grimy place without a glance back.

However, Klaus has other intentions, and is up in front of her in a flash, his gaze hard and menacing.

"Do you honestly think that, love? That I'm just pretending with you? That I'm _playing_? Do you really believe that I would just let you treat me like a fool time and time again because I need you as a pawn in my master game?" he roars back. His eyes blaze with both anger and hurt, his iris taking in that dangerous shade of yellow that belongs to the hybrid caged inside of him, to the beast beneath the man.

"_Yes_," Caroline answers forcefully, trying to act confident even if her voice is trembling and barely above a whisper.

The truth is that she _wants_ to believe him (_how pathetic_). To feel important, like there is actually someone who is putting her first for once in her life. But she's _afraid_. Afraid of getting hurt, of reading too much into it. _It is Klaus_, after all, and–

–just how many times has she repeated that to herself by now already?

Klaus' stance doesn't falter one bit, but, if anything, his eyes softens. "That's not true, and you know it."

_Does she?_

Caroline swallows thickly, backing away a few steps to try and distance herself from Klaus, but her back soon meets the bar counter and she is trapped.

"Well, I think _I_ know how _I_ feel better than _you_ do," she bits back, but her words are rehearsed, they are stumbled upon, and lack their usual harshness.

"Maybe," he concedes, slightly craning his neck to the left and observing her curiously, as if deep in thought. "But I'd wager you wouldn't be spending your twentieth birthday getting drunk on the wrong red liquid if you were really that sure of how you _feel_, love."

Caroline rolls her eyes, exhaling forcefully through her mouth. "_Whatever_. What do you even care," she mutters, although it is mostly to herself as she ducks her head again to avoid his eyes.

"Mmh, I think we've _just_ had this very same conversation."

"_Yes_. And I think I've just made it clear that I _don't_ believe you, so just get lost," she scoffs, trying again to dance around him and get far, far away—because, _seriously_.

His iron grip on her wrist stops her short though, turning her around so they are face to face again. "I _can't_. Don't you understand, Caroline?" he asks her painfully, his usually controlled, icy and stony eyes clear and vulnerable. "That your obstinacy is _killing_ me? Why do you keep pretending that you feel nothing for me?"

"_Because I don't_!" she shouts back, stiffly freeing her arm from his grasp.

Klaus clenches his eyes shut, his jaw hardening.

"You're here alone on your birthday, trying to drink away your memory," he speaks again after regaining some control. "You said yourself that your friends don't care about you—then _why_ can't you just be honest to yourself? To _me_?"

"Because it's _wrong_! What I feel for you is _wrong_!" she cries out before she has a chance to stop herself, tears now pricking at the corners of her eyes, trying to free themselves just like the sudden revelation that had flew out of her mouth not only a second before.

"Why?" he asks, inching closer to her. "Because I'm a killer? Because I've killed people who had threatened to hurt me and my family? That's why I'm the bad guy?" he lets out a humorless laugh, and he sounds _so_ bitter and defeated that Caroline's heart clenches a bit.

"You and your friends have done the same, sweetheart. You have killed too, to protect those you care about, and you'll kill again—why? Because you're a _vampire_. And I don't care. You could kill a thousand more people, and I wouldn't care! I wouldn't look at you any less, Caroline! Don't you understand? We're not humans anymore, there is no _right or wrong_ here!" he growls into her face, almost breathless, wanting to make her _see_. _Why can't she just_–

–but something _does_ snap inside of Caroline then—hasn't she been reproaching herself just minutes before for still standing, _struggling_, on an invisible moral high ground?—and before she can even realize her actions she is crashing her body into Klaus', her lips taking his by surprise.

She enjoys the first few minutes of control, her fingers busying themselves into his unruly hair, gripping and pulling at it almost severely, viciously. But this is _Klaus–_

–again (_still_)–

–and, as soon as his head catches up with what's happening, he's pushing his tongue against the seam of her lips forcefully, not even pretending to ask for entrance as his mouth dominates hers.

He brings one arm around her waist, securing her against him so aggressively that she can only lift up on her tiptoes to keep her balance, although there is very little space between their bodies that she could actually fall into.

His other hand takes a hold of her face, caressing her cheek and tilting her head slightly to deepen their kiss even more, his tongue owning her mouth so ferociously that it's literally leaving her no other option but to respond in kind—not that she actually _wants_ any other option, anyway.

Klaus' kiss is both passionate and tender, and she's not quite sure how he manages to do that but it makes her head spin, and so Caroline backs away just a bit, disconnecting their lips.

He's desperate though, and doesn't relent—he's probably worried that she's going to change her mind any moment now and reject him again, because s_he's fickle like that_. What he doesn't realize is that Caroline is way past the point of no return by now, and she has no intention of backing out this time. _Not anymore_.

So his lips find her neck, nibbling relentlessly, biting down with his blunt teeth, not hard enough to break the skin, but still enough to elicit a moan from the blonde.

It sends him into overdrive.

"_Caroline_–" he growls into her skin, and she _knows_.

If she wants to stop, it has to be _now_.

Her hands leave his hair, they touch down his neck and grip the lapels of his jacket, pulling him more firmly against her. He's hard but soft, _and it makes no sense at all_, but she wants this. She has been wanting this for a very long time, if she's being honest with herself.

Klaus' head feels like it's about to explode, or implode. He's not complaining but he would have never expected tonight to go this way, and he's torn between enjoying it and denying himself because he doesn't know if he will ever be okay with having her just once–

–_he won't_–

–and he's pretty sure that _that_ is what this will ever be.

But just like that, she's shaking her head against his chest—her whole body shaking, curling, _softening_, against his—and his hand that was on her cheek gets lost in her curls and presses her against him even more firmly, even more intimately, because _this is it_.

They don't need to speak.

It's a second and then they're outside the bar.

Everybody was intoxicated inside, _but someone_—but Klaus doesn't care. He would gladly reveal the existence of the whole vampire species to the whole, wide world as long as it meant he could keep Caroline like this.

She doesn't have much time to think about it anyway, as her back hits the brick wall of the dimly illuminated alley.

And even if vampires are not supposed to get chilly—they're not supposed to get hot either—Caroline feels like she's on fire all over, like she's flying, or exploding, (she can't tell), and the cold, late autumn air hits her burning skin like a thousand knives.

Her neck tilts back in a breathless plea as Klaus pushes against her again, his head burrowed in the nick just above her shoulder, where her breastbone meets her cleavage, his teeth exposing more of her flawless, ivory skin ad they drag away the soft collar of her yellow top–

–yellow, light, _Caroline_.

He licks, and bites, and sucks, and then does it all over again, marking her.

"_Klaus_," she pants shamelessly, her cheeks flushed, her bottom lip tortured between her teeth.

He hums against her neck, and the action makes her smile. It's so intimate and new for the two of them, _and yet_, somehow it feels normal. _Right_.

_Is she losing her mind?_

"Will you–" she chokes out a breathless moan as he hoists one of her legs up and around his waist, bending it at the knee. "–admit that you were stalking me, now?"

Her hips arch closer to his just as he grins at her persistence.

It makes his heart soar that she's still being _Caroline_, that she's fully present and not a pretended-drunk, dejected version of herself. She knows that this is happening and she wants it—_him_.

"_Never_."

Their mouths fuse together again. He's still smirking against her lips, and it causes her to smile as well.

_This is crazy–_

–_but no_, it's not.

It's brilliant, _really_. A sight to behold. Two beings finally caving in to their deepest desire, trying to defeat the rusty barriers of the golden state of mind that had been keeping them separated thus far.

It's cathartic, almost. Because it was never supposed to be anything but this. And they can both feel it—_yes_—through the frantic, crazed beating of the other's heart. A heart which is pumping borrowed–

–(_stolen_)–

–blood through their veins, as if they're alive again, as if they had never died at all.

On instinct—and she's bat shit worried for her mental sanity because _this_ should not feel half as much as natural as it does—she lifts her other leg up and around his waist as well, bringing his lower half closer to her own.

_And God_,_ it feels_–

"_So good_," Klaus gasps out, leaving her lips to take in an unnecessary breath. "_God_, sweetheart, _you feel so good_."

He's still panting against her bared shoulder, and so she momentarily busies herself with his neck, one hand sneaking down into the collar of his _damned_ Henley to grasp those _damned_ necklaces.

Her legs tighten the hold they have around his waist (as if he's ever letting her go), and his hips buck into hers readily.

The pressure in his groin is almost unbearable and this is only the beginning, and if Klaus actually decides to stop for a moment and think, think that this is _Caroline_, he might just cry.

And just like that, he wants to laugh, because—wouldn't that ruin the mood just fine?

She's wrapped up around him as tight as a second skin, and he can feel her and smell her everywhere, and it's _just too damn much_.

He feels overwhelmed like he never has before in his whole life—and isn't that saying something, given just how long he has been roaming on this Earth?—and they really need to leave _now_, otherwise he will take her right then and there, and she deserves better. She deserves _everything_.

Caroline is still slowly licking a trail up is neck, taking her time, occasionally biting down without of course drawing out a single drop of blood. She feels him gulp, nervous, and it's _empowering_.

She wonders for how long he could actually still resist, and thinks of taunting him for a moment, but she's done plenty of that already (_seriously_), so all she can do is balance herself more properly around him, looking straight into his blazing blue eyes.

Strong. Ageless. _Fearless_.

"Bring me home?" she whispers, fluttering her eyelashes coyly and making his breath hitch in his throat. She's a _Goodness_–

–_she will be the death of him_.

She doesn't need to ask twice. In all honesty, she didn't even really need to ask that one time.

In an instant, he has them speeding through the darkness—it feels _so nice_—and it's mere seconds before they're stumbling through the ample front door of his Mystic Falls' mansion.

Normally, she'd worry about other people—ahem, his siblings, _maybe_?—being there, but not this time. _He_ himself wasn't supposed to be in Mystic Falls, so she doubts any of his pesky siblings are.

For a moment (a millisecond, she _swears_), she wonders _why_ he is—in Mystic Falls, she means—but there's that little, nagging voice at the back of her mind that doesn't even really need to remind her of the answer.

_Because of you, Caroline. It was all for you_.

Her back is up against a wall, _again_. Not that she minds, _at all_, because his body is pressed up onto hers in all the right places and in all the right ways, and she is not going to complain about that. Like, _ever_. But she wants some control over this, and she doesn't want to let him do all the hard work.

She snickers against his lips. _Hard_ work—God, she is _such_ a teenager. (Except she isn't, not anymore).

Klaus looks at her a bit funnily then, and that adorable crinkle between his eyebrows makes an appearance.

She shakes her head with a smile, taking his face between her hands gently.

They're about _to_—and she just _laughed_. (_For God's sake, Forbes_). There's only so many ways a man can take that.

The slightly affronted look on his face disappear as she captures his lips with hers one more time, his tongue wasting no time as it enters her mouth and moves languidly against her own, caressing her teeth and then the roof of her mouth. He's swallowing her whole, and even if the tempo has slowed down a bit, the passion is all but vanished, and it's eating them up alive.

Caroline feels extremely comfortable hoisted up around his waist, and she knows he would stake himself before letting her fall, so as he shrugs off his jacket she pulls at the collar of his Henley, panting into his mouth as he teases her by dragging his teeth along her plump bottom lip.

For a moment, she thinks of simply tearing the offending fabric in two—because that would be _so hot_—to finally free his chest to her hungry gaze, but she wants to do this as normal as it can be, so she simply eases him out of the shirt by pulling it up and over his head.

The disheveled look _certainly_ suits him, with his hair now all messy not only from her fingers running mercilessly through it, gripping and pulling, but also from her undressing him.

He's _beautiful_, and the undiluted adoration dancing across his eyes makes her want to cry.

They have a task at hand, though, and they are both getting impatient.

Her jacket is the next to go, hitting the floor with a resounding _thud_. Then her top, as he shows it the same respect she had showed his shirt just moments before, his hands bunching the fabric up to her stomach as they caress her newly exposed skin, his eyes roaming her flawless figure in awe. It's mere seconds before the yellow garment touches the floor, as well.

She's wearing a white, lace bra underneath and it's enough to make him shudder–

–_how is this really happening?_

He inches her up higher around his torso, unwrapping and then re-wrapping her lithe legs around him by her thighs.

Finally, albeit still covered (_he wants to take his time_), her breasts are right in front of him, and it's all he can do to lean forwards, nudging her perfect skin with his nose, trailing a light path across her collarbone.

Caroline is already panting heavily as he pushes down her shoulders one white strap and then the other. _Carefully, tenderly_.

"_Please_," she breathes out throatily, rubbing herself down on him. She needs more. _More, more, more_.

One hand reaches behind her back and finally—_finally_—unfastens her bra.

She's not one bit shy as she shrugs it off, baring herself to him. If there is anything that she has learned about him, and that she is now finally letting herself admit, is that she knows he will never look at her with anything but the utmost respect and adoration.

Klaus' eyes widen at the sight of her bare breasts, like a starved man seeing water again for the first time in years, and he wastes no time in cupping his hands under them, his thumbs immediately starting to fondle her nipples expertly.

He feels like he could combust, touching her like this.

Caroline moans, and her hands grip onto his hair again, her nails cutting into his scalp.

It doesn't hurt him, because—_how could it, really_? But it feels _so good_. He doubts, however, that there is anything she could do to him that would ever feel anything but _fucking amazing_.

Sensing her need for more, his mouth latches greedily onto one of the two little, erect buds, while his left hand takes care of the other.

But still, it's not enough–

–it _never_ will be.

She wants to give as much pleasure as she is taking. (As if having her so willing and compliant into his arms isn't already the greatest victory of Klaus' life).

She also wants to look into his eyes. She can't quite exactly explain _why_, but she does—she feels this _pull_, and she can't ignore it. She won't.

So she pulls at his hair again—it makes him smirk because it has already become _a thing_—and coerces him upwards. He does as she asks without a single word, but traps her lips with his own before she can say or do anything else.

One of her hands sneaks away from his hair then, and caresses down his chest from his neck. It lingers across his abdomen, feeling it tighten under her touch. She has (_both_ have) had enough of playing around, so her fingers graze lightly down the chiseled _V_ of his waistline and lose no time in undoing the button of his jeans and pulling down the zipper.

He hisses through his teeth as he feels her little, warm hand brush against the prominent bulge still tucked beneath his boxers. It's pure torture, but the sweetest kind.

He feels it against his bared back as she toes off her shoes, and he hears the killer heels tumble down to the floor.

"Upstairs, love?" he suggests hoarsely, and all she can do is nod.

They lose his shoes, and his jeans, and _her_ jeans, on their way up to his master bedroom. It allows more skin-on-skin contact, and—_barely_—but it's a relief.

She almost misses the feeling of the wall behind her back, but the weight of his almost naked body above hers surpasses it quickly, and by far, as she still loosely braces her legs around his waist.

He pushes her down on the bed, and takes a second to admire her spread like that on _his_ sheets, with her blonde hair splayed all around her angelic face, her eyes wide and excited fixed on his, her lips swollen because of his kisses and her skin flushed a lovely pink from her cleavage to her cheeks–

–she's a _vision_. And it makes his heart clench painfully in his chest.

He toys with the waistband of her panties—they're _black_, and he finds it _so fitting_ that they don't match the white of the bra he had discarded from her body what it feels like hours before.

She can see it in his eyes as he finally skims the thin material past her hips and down her legs—he wants more time. But she believes they have had enough foreplay already—a couple of years, if she's being honest with herself—and she wants him _now_.

As soon as she is completely naked before him, she sits up slightly and brings her hands to his boxers.

"_Love_–" he wants to plead, but the smoldering look in her eyes is just too much for him this time and he gives in to her—_when_ doesn't he, after all?

Caroline stretches down on the king sized bed, her hands again finding their favorite place at the nape of his neck as she tugs him down onto her.

He takes her mouth again, positioning himself at her entrance, and finally thrusts inside of her just as his tongue slides past her lips as well.

She gasps, throwing her head back against the bed, arching into him.

It just feels _so_—_right_.

Klaus stretches her walls in the most painful but delicious of ways, and he doesn't stop pushing against her up until he has filled her up completely, his hips nestled firmly and securely between her legs.

He gives them both a few moments to adjust to the new, unfamiliar sensation of being joined as one.

Tenderly, he trails the back of his hand down her burning cheek, meeting her eyes. He wants to remember _this_—_he will remember this forever_. It's the single most perfect moment of his whole existence. He's been dead for over a thousand years, and all it took for him to feel alive again was _this_ exquisite baby vampire.

He can feel her light swallowing him whole, and he rests his sweaty forehead against hers as he finally withdraws all the way out of her body and then thrusts back inside again.

They find a rhythm that is entirely theirs. It's neither too slow nor too fast.

He takes his time pulling in and out of her warmth, wanting to feel every single inch of her as her slender legs wrap themselves around his torso again.

It's magnificent. _She_ is magnificent.

Caroline can feel the burning coil at the pit of her abdomen intensifying and moving lower with every thrust of Klaus' body into hers, and it's _mind blowing_.

He picks up the tempo, moment after moment after moment, and she starts arching her hips more forcefully up against his, whimpering, gasping, trashing among the sheets.

"_Caroline_–" he growls, clenching his jaw. It's just _too much_—_everything_ is just too much.

Her eyes are only half opened in the throes of their passion, but she manages to focus her gaze into Klaus', and she gasps at the sight that welcomes her. His eyes are a bright yellow, surrounded by flickering black veins, and she can see the protruding fangs barely covered by his quivering lips.

She feels a sudden bloodlust of her own, and welcomes the all too familiar burning at the back of her throat—she _did_ end up not feeding at the bar, after all.

One of her hands grips Klaus' biceps fiercely, leaving her fingernails' marks on it and drawing some small drops of blood.

It's really the last straw for both of them.

Caroline brings her other hand into his hair, pressing his face into her neck as he is still thrusting in and then out of her forcefully, the slap of their skin the only sound mixing with their pants and moans around the otherwise completely still room.

"_Love_–" he gulps, giving her one last chance out.

She shakes her head forcefully. "_Do it._"

And so he does.

Caroline screams as his fangs latch onto her neck, sucking the life away from her, and she grips even more strongly at his arm and hair.

The vigorous gyrating of their hips against each other doesn't falter for one second. If anything, it gets rougher, more animalistic, more _primal_.

He touches the small of her back, bringing her even closer to him, and tilts his head slightly to offer his neck to her as well.

It's not because she knows she _needs_ it to survive, _no_. She _wants it_. Utterly and desperately.

Her own fangs pulse through her gums, and in a second she has them in his neck and it's all over.

It's _so intense_—the feeling of bloodsharing while making love. And the second his unique blood hits her tongue, it's all she can do to let go and pulse furiously around his member, coming and making him come right after her.

Klaus had never felt something quite like this—he had never shared his blood with anybody who didn't need it for the only purpose of surviving—and he feels like he might explode at any moment.

Their hips are still moving in tandem, their movements slowing down but their connection remaining.

He releases her neck first, and she licks a few last drops of his blood to make sure that she will heal—and also because he tastes _so damn good_, and she really cannot help herself.

They're both panting, both breathless, but eventually Klaus gently pulls out of her and rolls onto the other side of the bed, but not without wrapping one arm around her slim waist to bring her warm body against his.

He brings the sheets up to cover them both, and their legs tangle together beneath the covers.

It's too domesticated, and they both know it, but it's late and they're exhausted. There will be time to think everything more through in the morning, no need to ruin a perfect night.

So Caroline just closes her eyes and cuddles closer to his hard but welcoming body, efficiently shutting off her usually incessant thoughts. A small smile—but a _real_ one—graces her lips, and it's all Klaus can do to succumb to sleep himself, tucking her even more against his side.

It doesn't take either long to fall asleep—some _creatures of the night_ they are, eh—but it's quiet and peaceful and they're _content_–

–and it doesn't really matter that the bite marks on their necks are not healing quite the way that they are supposed to.


	2. Chapter 2

"**It was supposed to be a one-time thing, a mistake. But when you're a vampire, life is blood, and blood binds."**

* * *

**A/N: Hey there, lovelies! Thank you so, so much to every single one of you who has reviewed, followed, favorited, or even simply read the first chapter of this story! It means a lot to me. I want you to know that I'm going to try and make it a point with this story to not publish a chapter before I have at least started/planned out the next one, so if you have followed me here from any other of my stories, rest assured that this one will be updated much more regularly. I actually have very big plans for this story, and I hope you'll all be there with me through the whole journey!**

**Of course, thank you to the most amazing beta ever, Bethany (MarsterRoo).**

**Please, enjoy!**

**Giulia.**

* * *

Caroline's stride is confident and purposeful—and fast (because she _might_ be just a tiny bit late, okay?)—as she walks across campus, a huge beaming smile on her face, her English books in hand and all.

She feels happy today, _light_. The sun is shining above Whitmore College and her mind is just as cloudless as the sky—it's a _good day_.

In all honesty, she had thought she would feel much, much guiltier about having slept with Klaus (effectively betraying each and every single one of her friends in the process), but all she feels now is a huge pride in knowing that—_at last_—the moment had come that she had done something for herself, and herself only. It is an exciting feeling that she is not at all accustomed to.

_So what_ if her mind betrays her for a millisecond, as she winces and her step falters just a bit, just once, because—she _had_ snuck out in the morning.

The most immature part of her (it's _so tiny_, she swears) half wants to pat herself on the back, because—_let's face it_—how many other people can actually say they have snuck out on the one and only, _mighty_ Niklaus Mikaelson? She's actually pretty sure she knows the answer to that, and it's _none_. So, yeah—_you go, girl_.

There is this other part, though—very annoying, if you ask her—that keeps replaying the night's events in her mind over and over again. And if it's not bad enough that those thoughts make her heart beat impossibly faster, her stomach knot with nerves, and heat pool between her legs—then there's the memory of Klaus looking at her with such unadulterated _love_ and devotion that it makes her feel like throwing up if she thinks of how she had left him alone in his bed just hours before.

And isn't it funny really—that she does not feel guilty for what she did but because she knows that she cannot do that ever again?

And isn't it stupid anyway, _useless_, to try and distinguish between these two forms of shame when they aren't but the same thing? If _she knows_—her heart clenches painfully—that she cannot be with Klaus again, isn't it because she _does_, ultimately, feel terrible for being just _so close_ to forgive him, to forget that he ever killed Jenna, or Tyler's mum, or anyone?

–_why couldn't life just be easier?_

She does arrive to her class—_eventually_—but her walk is slumped, and she does not feel one ounce of her previous confidence or happiness.

She's _annoyed_—at Klaus, at herself, _at the world_—and she feels impossibly tired, flat, _weak_.

The chair beside her moves, its legs scratching against the old lecture room's floor, and it's all she can do to bite her tongue, because she already has enough problems of her own—_thank you_—and the last thing she needs right now is a recap of the Elena Gilbert's love life telenovela.

"Hey," the brunette greets her with a half-hearted smile, oblivious to her inner struggles. "Where did you go last night? Bonnie and I were waiting for you with ice-cream and a special _Gone With The Wind_ DVD marathon," she teases, and—_God_.

Caroline just really wants to roll her eyes—she doesn't, _mind you_, she has way more class than that—because does she now have to say sorry for having deprived _poor Elena_ of a perfect chance to feel like the most amazing best friend that she is not? Oh, imagine her _awful_ disappointment for not having been able to make everything be magically alright just because she had said so.

_Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Forbes?_ How could you spend _your_ birthday in a non Elena-Gilbert-approved fashion? How _inconsiderate_.

(Is she being slightly bitter? _Mmh_).

"I just needed some space," she answers eventually, sighing heavily.

"Oh, alright," Elena doesn't press for more—she is probably already making her own assumptions anyway, and it's not like Caroline cares, not anymore.

"Damon would have crashed the party, anyway," she adds after a pause, trying to sound at least slightly annoyed even if the affection she feels towards the elder Salvatore brother is obvious in her tone.

"Oh, why?" Caroline can't help but ask—_of course _the attention on her birthday wouldn't have actually been on her.

"Something about Klaus, _again_," Elena complains, and—_thankfully—_does not notice her gulping at the mention of the hybrid.

"Klaus?" she laughs awkwardly and cringes at herself—that didn't sound half as nonchalant as she had intended it to be.

Elena gives her a funny look, and she clears her throat. "I mean–he's far away from here now,"—(_lie_)—"why do we still care?"—(_another lie_).

_Liar liar, pants on fire!_

"Well, yeah," Elena sighs. "But it turns out Bonnie has been in contact with Esther on the other side–"

"_What_?" Caroline interrupts her, whisper-yelling to convey her annoyance but also not let intruding ears listen in on them. "The original _mother of the year_–_Esther_? Why didn't she tell us before?" she reproaches.

"I don't know," Elena shrugs. "It's not like she had meant to meet with her there. And she had only told Jeremy, really. And then he told Damon by mistake, _and_–"

Caroline hums in discontentment, interrupting her friend once again. "Alright. Get to the point?" she urges. _This cannot lead anywhere good_.

For a second, Elena looks taken aback by her bluntness but then she answers. "We are not sure, yet. Bonnie all but fried Damon's brain last night when he showed up,"—Caroline just _can't_ hold back a somewhat pleased smile at that—"and she won't say a word of what Esther had told her on the other side."

Caroline exhales loudly. "What do you think that is about, anyway?" she asks after a second, trying to put the pieces of information together as she lets herself slump down on the desk before her.

Elena turns to her with a pointed look, like it's _so obvious_ and Caroline must be living on _another freaking planet_ for not having caught up with it yet.

"The only thing she has ever cared about helping us with—getting rid of Klaus."

**:**

**:**

The feeling of _déjà vu_ sucks, Caroline decides as she again finds herself hurrying through the mass of students in order to _not_ be late to her second class in a row.

She is not sure whether to laugh or just slap herself if she thinks at how stupidly carefree she had been just hours before, how accomplished and _good_ she had felt. And as if it was not enough that her mood had gone sour on its own already, plagued by the guilt of her _thirsty scandal_, then what Elena had revealed to her about the possible Bonnie/Esther/killing-Klaus situation had only added to her distress, leaving her with a huge weight on her chest.

_She doesn't want Klaus gone_.

Groaning, she closes her eyes for a second—just a second, _really_, because her head hurts and _everything is such a freaking mess_—but it's still enough for her to collide into an unexpected hard chest she finds on her way.

"Oh. I'm sor–"

"Hello, sweetheart."

Caroline gasps. "_Klaus_..."

The hybrid smirks, but she knows him too well–

–_how did that happen?_–

–and she can see past the fake smugness and feigned cockiness, right through to the unusual coldness of his eyes.

It makes her heart clench, but she deserves it.

"Glad to see you still remember me, what with how quickly and stealthily you fled my home this morning," he mocks, arching his eyebrows. He wants to sound sardonic, but it's tough. He had known far too well not to expect anything from Caroline come the new day, but he had hoped—_hope_, it breeds eternal misery, that thief—to at least be able to talk, maybe get through to her somehow.

"Must have been quite the workout, really," he continues when she doesn't say anything (what is she even supposed to say?). "Running back here from Mystic Falls in time for your classes. You must have unbelievable stamina, love, after our night's activities."

Caroline's cheeks flush red in an instant, the memories of said activities still fresh in her mind. She doubts she will ever forget, really—the weight of his firm, naked body against her softer one, the pressure of his sex making way into hers, the wetness of his mouth on her breasts and the feeling of his stubble marking her skin as he drank from her. _No_, there is _no chance_ she is _ever_ going to forget.

She sighs, feeling dejected. For once in her life, she actually—_maybe_—knows what she wants, but cannot seem to figure out how to get it quite yet.

"Can we not do this here? _Please_?"

It catches Klaus by surprise, really. Even if he should probably know by now—Caroline Forbes is a mystery he will never be able to fully uncover, (and he wouldn't want it any other way).

He had arrived expecting her to put up a fight, just flat down ignore him and what had transpired between them the night before, and kick him to the metaphorical curb once again, but _was she actually_–

–no.

It probably only was a strategy of containment and nothing more, sending him away time and time again. It wouldn't be the first time on her part, anyway.

"Here and now actually sounds good to me, love."

She glares. _Asshole_.

"Well, it doesn't to me. I have a class," she flashes him one of her over the top, closed-lips, _Caroline original_ I-hate-you-to-death smiles.

But her attempt to waltz right past him is just as futile as it had been the night before.

Klaus grips her elbow, gentle but firm at the same time, turning her towards him again.

"_I'm–_"

"_Seriou–_"

They speak at the same time, but then something catches Klaus' attention, his eyebrows furrowing in a mixture of concern and confusion, making Caroline stop mid-sentence as well.

"What?" she asks.

The hand that is not gripping her arm—Caroline does not feel one bit of sizzling energy at the contact, _nope_—reaches up to her face, brushing her hair off her shoulder and exposing her neck.

Klaus' gaze is now hard and threatening, his jaw set.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he grinds out.

Caroline frowns. "Tell you what?"

Klaus exhales forcefully through his nose, unwillingly retreating his hand back from her face. "That my bite is not healing."

"What?"

She brings her own hand to her neck, searching for the spot where Klaus had bitten her the night before. She feels a slightly colder, slightly scruffy patch of skin and gasps.

"Oh, God," her eyes rise to meet Klaus'. "I hadn't realized."

"It's okay, love. Nothing a bit more of my blood won't fix," he reassures her with a cocky, crooked smile.

She rolls her eyes, although a small smile is playing on her lips.

She feels her insides squirm in excitement at the prospect of drinking from Klaus again, and she can't help it as her gaze instinctively shifts to his neck and–

–_her heart drops_, a jealousy that she knows she has no right of feeling after how she has left him that morning ripping through her as her eyes zero in on him.

"Oh, _wow_," she scoffs, shaking her head at herself—how could she actually be _so stupid_?

Klaus arches an eyebrow, wary of her sudden change of mood. "It's the truth, love. It's not my fault my blood is the cure. I'd actually say it comes pretty in handy."

"_Of course_ it does. So you can just go around, fuck and bite whoever you want and all they have to do is bite you back, right?" she snaps.

He looks taken aback, but it's only for a second. "What's spurring this on, love? And do I detect some _jealousy_?" he asks, his tone smug as he inches just a bit closer, his head lowering towards hers. "Need I remind you, love, that _you_ are the one who left me alone in bed this morning?"

Caroline raises her hands up in front of her. "Oh sorry, but it doesn't look to me like you missed me all that much, anyway," she bites back accusingly. "How long did it take you to find a rebound, mmh? Or maybe you just have a stash of portable whores hidden somewhere in that creepy house of yours?"

Klaus frowns. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Caroline. You should really get some of my blood, you're probably hallucinating already."

Caroline laughs bitterly, folding her arms across her chest. "Oh, _that's rich_. You just expect me to drink again from where your common slut has?" she smiles coldly, starting to take her leave. "I'd rather die."

Klaus is genuinely, _seriously_, confused by now, and catches her arm again before she can walk away.

"Caroline, I don't know why you're assuming what you are assuming, but I have not been with anyone but you," he assures her, his eyes almost pleading.

How can she think that he would just move on to someone else after what they shared? How can she think to be nothing but a casual one-night stand to him when she is the only one he has ever wanted? Does she not _know_? Has he not proved to her just how deep his feelings for her run enough times already? _Why would he_–

–"_Do you really think that low of me?"_

"_Yes."_

She looks at him straight in the eyes, hurt evident in her bright blue orbs.

"Please, Klaus. You're free to do as you wish, but at least don't lie to my face. Not when I have the evidence right in front of me."

"What evidence? Caroline, what are you talking about?"

"_The bite_, Klaus," she sighs heavily, briefly closing her eyes. "I'm talking about the _bite mark on your neck_," she spells out slowly, looking at his neck again.

If she thinks that–_no_. It's none of her business anyway, right? _Right_. And she doesn't care. Not one bit. No. _No_. Just _no_.

Klaus shakes his head with a smile. "You're definitely hallucinating, love," he cranes his neck slightly and looks down. "There is no–"

He halts. It's _impossible_.

"See?" Caroline sighs, slumping her shoulders in disappointment—for a moment she had actually wished that she _was_ in fact hallucinating it all. "Now, can you please let me go?"

She feels his grip on her arm slacken slightly for a second—_thank you_—but then he has her hand firmly in his and he's dragging her away.

"Klaus!" she shrieks, trying to free herself from his hold even if she knows that she's no match for his strength. "What the hell do you think you're doing!"

He does not answer, his face a mask of indifference even if the ticking of his clenched jaw gives away his—_anger_? _What_ is _actually_ going on?

Eventually, when he deems the place to be private enough, they stop, and he finally lets go of her arm.

Looking around, Caroline quickly recognizes the courtyard behind the campus. There is no one around, except maybe a few students, but they're far away and cannot possibly see them nor hear them as the two of them are encompassed by the big, dark shadows the tall trees all around them project on the ground.

All in all, it's actually _nice_. It's quiet and peaceful, and the sun is not as oppressing—they _are_ vampires, after all.

"Care to tell me what is going on?" Caroline presses him, arching her perfectly plucked eyebrows at him and crossing her arms over her chest.

Klaus seems to be trying to avoid her stare, something that has _never_ happened before, and it worries her.

After a moment, he exhales loudly through his nose, his eyes closed and his jaw set.

"I don't know," he finally answers, reopening his eyes and gazing into hers.

Caroline gives him a pointed, annoyed look. "You _don't know_?"

"That's what I said, love. Do not make me repeat myself."

"Oh, _sorry_ if I want to know why you are kidnapping me!" she mocks him, bringing her hands to her hips, a scolding frown taking her features.

Klaus gives her a sideways look. "Drama does not become you, love."

Caroline gasps, affronted. "_Drama_ is my _major_, I'll have you know."

She feels a bit like a child—and _yes_, she might have just whined a bit—but not everybody can be a sophisticated and refined (ahem, _ancient_) hybrid, now, can they? What was she supposed to choose? _Art History_?

(She had never thought about it, _nope_. Haven't taken that into consideration even for a millisecond of her precious time, _she refuses_).

Klaus sighs, although his gaze is full of affection as it lays back on her and a small smile is playing at the corners on his closed lips.

"I know it is, love, that is not what I meant. But isn't it a bit of an exaggeration on your part to say I've kidnapped you? We're still on school grounds," he gives her a pointed look and she presses her lips together, glaring at him.

"You're impossible, has anybody ever told you that?"

"Pot, kettle. And yes, a few people might have mentioned that in passing."

"Mmh."

Neither of them speak for a moment then, and Caroline is getting impatient.

She clears her throat rather loudly. "So, you don't know what's happening, we have certified that," she mocks. "Could you maybe tell me _why_ you think something is happening, at least?"

"It's the bite marks," he answers curtly, pinching the bridge of his nose in a nervous habit as he paces back and forth in front of her.

"_Oookay_. What about them?" she asks. "And are you having a nervous breakdown? Like, is this you on crisis mode? Because it's sort of funny."

He lifts his head for a moment, looking at her with reprimanding eyes but ignoring her somewhat sarcastic remarks.

"They are not healing, sweetheart," he answers slowly, in a sigh. "Contrary to your accusations, I have not been with anybody else after you, which means the mark on my neck is the one _you_ had drunk from last night. Now, that makes me believe the bite mark on your neck, as well, is not still there for the reasons we had originally thought, as you after all seem to be quite healthy, don't you think?"

It takes a moment for all the pieces of information to sink in—and she's not completely sure they properly have yet—but when they do her face goes slightly pale and her mouth opens agape on its own.

"Oh."

"Yes. I'd say _oh_ is quite accurate."

"What do you think it means?" she dares asking, fidgeting in her spot, distress obvious in her eyes even if her mind probably hasn't quite caught up to the possible gravity of the situation yet.

Klaus sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, love, but I really have no idea."

"Well," she raises her eyebrows for a second and gulps. "That's comforting."

–_there's a pause_–

"Maybe it's only temporary? I mean, has it ever happened to you before?"

He almost wishes he could say that yes, it has, because she's looking at him _so hopefully_, and that would mean actually having a clue about the meaning of it all, but–

"I'm afraid not."

He thinks of coming clean, but it would be too much too soon. It's not like she doesn't know what bloodsharing during sex means for vampires, now, does she? He can wait some more time before telling her that he had never tried it with anybody before her–

–his heart clenches painfully in his chest at the thought that maybe _she_ has–

–because she would only blame it all on him then, and she probably wouldn't be half wrong about it either.

He _is_ a hybrid, (half werewolf), vampire things don't quite work the same for him—it would seem only fair, really.

While that revelation calms _him_ down, if only barely—he's the only one of his species and has never tried this before, maybe it _is_ temporary—it only winds Caroline up even more, because _damn it!_—why _her_ if he has been sexing innocent girls up for centuries, right?

"Maybe it's some sort of spell," she prompts, but he only looks at her oddly.

"Like, a bajillion people hate you," she explains with an overly dramatic flaunt of her hand in his direction. "I'm sure there is someone trying stuff around just to kill you twenty-four/seven."

He actually has _the nerve_ to chuckle, and she glares at him for what feels like the millionth time already that day.

"I'm not kidding. Maybe this is a side effect of something."

He regards her almost curiously then, inching closer with purposefully slow steps. "Do you perhaps happen to know something you want to share, _love_?"

Caroline scrunches up her nose, backing away a bit. "What do you mean? It was just an _idea_."

"Mmh. Or maybe your so-called _friends_ tried something too far up above their capacities again, and now you're just afraid of having to pay the consequences of it? Maybe last night was nothing but a made-up plan you and your little gang pulled up on me, what do you say, sweetheart?"

"What? _No_!" she replies forcefully, looking at him with an almost dishearten frown. "God, you have _serious_ trust issues, you know that?"

Klaus' hard gaze doesn't falter as he focuses his eyes into hers, trying to understand if she's being honest or lying.

"Well, forgive me, sweetheart, but it wouldn't be the first time that you're used as a distraction, now, would it?"

"Not like that," Caroline scoffs, turning to look to the side and bringing her arms folded across her chest. "I wouldn't just sleep with you in order to kill you," she says, and he can both hear and see that she's being genuine as she brings her eyes up to meet his once again.

"And that was _before_, anyway," she adds with a small, casual shrug.

And at that, despite the situation, Klaus can't help the small smile that makes its way to his lips.

"Before, mmh? Before _what_ exactly, love?" he asks, repeating the word smugly in that British accent of his and cocking an eyebrow at her.

She glares at him because—_damn him_, he _knows _what she means. She doesn't have to tell him what has changed between them since the first time she had been helping her friends to try and take him down.

"Just... just _before_," she half stutters. "I'm not playing the dumb, blonde distraction anymore."

He smirks, but it's more content or satisfied than mischievous, and brings a hand forward to cup her cheek delicately, brushing the blushing center of it with his thumb.

"Don't be harsh on yourself, love. You were never a dumb companion. And I loved every second of it."

He is _so close_, she can feel his warmness radiating off his body and into hers, his smell—a mixture of a probably unreasonably expensive aftershave and something that is uniquely _Klaus_—is all around her and he's all she can see or breath or even think about.

Their contact is minimal, barely the pressure of his hand against her cheek, and _still_—she feels like she's _in flames_.

And how can he do that with the simplest of touches? And how is any of that even remotely _fair_?

Every nerve of her body is tingling in anticipation and her heart is beating so frantically inside of her chest that she can barely hear anything besides its uncontrollable fluttering. Her insides are burning, _turning_, and she can _feel_ the fresh blood he must have consumed before following her all the way here coursing through his veins just beneath the surface of his pale skin.

Caroline feels _intoxicated_. Right here and right now, trying to resist him feels harder than ignoring the call of blood which springs her survival instincts into action every day of her not-so-new-anymore, vampire life, and it makes _no sense at all_.

(Nothing about him—_about them_—makes any kind of sense anymore, really).

It has to because he tastes and smells _so freaking delicious_—and _she knows_. She knows far too well by now, and it does nothing in helping her quell her _hunger_ for him. She can't even really comprehend by now—if she wants his blood, or his body, or his mind, or maybe _his everything_.

(After finally arriving back to her dorm this morning, she has only had time for half a blood bag and _damn_, she's _starving_).

His hand has moved lower to her neck now, and he's caressing _his_ bite mark on her otherwise flawless skin.

It gives him a twisted sense of satisfaction—that _he __has_ marked her, after all. Right now, he doesn't care if it's only temporary or if this all means trouble—which it probably does—because it's a reminder he doesn't really need (he will _never_ forget) of a night that has forged him a new man with a new purpose. Caroline running away and telling him no was one thing, but _now_. He knows his hope is not unwarranted, and he's willing to _fight_ for her.

He has always suspected it, really, that Caroline Forbes would be his most difficult challenge yet.

But–

–s_he's worth it_.

"Are you feeling alright, sweetheart?" he asks her in a low tone, caressing her jawline with his thumb.

Caroline blinks—once, twice, three times—then meekly nods her head, and looks down.

She doesn't have any explanation for the sudden burning at the back of her throat—it's familiar, _too_ familiar–

–but _not here, not here, not here_, she's chanting in her head.

Klaus gently takes hold of her chin and tilts it up, gasping at the sight of her blood red eyes and pulsing black veins.

"_Caroline_–"

He loves the bubbly, cheerful, _full of light_ Caroline—_God_, if he does—but her vampire features do something to him that he cannot even begin to understand, let alone explain.

He feels himself harden at the mere sight of her like this, and he knows that it is _so wrong_, but he can't help himself—the thought that she wants him so much that she can barely keep the urges at bay is just too much.

Caroline swallows. "Wait, just give me–" she shakes her head, closing her eyes, but it isn't of any use.

"I'm just–" she tries again, but Klaus is pushing her backwards and her back hits the wall of the Science building—and it's just like last night all over again, just like she had never left him in the morning.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his blue eyes boring into her red ones. "You're _so beautiful_, Caroline."

She doesn't have the time to say anything, as his lips descend on hers without preamble, her mouth readily opening under his, their tongues mingling together.

His hands leave her face and move to wrap her legs around him, her yellow dress riding up her thighs—and _God_, why is this all _so familiar_ already? _She can't do it again_.

Her body completely disagrees, humming in pure pleasure everywhere he touches her with his demanding and expert hands.

They're both moving their hips against each other, desperately looking for some friction, some comfort, _something_–

–_how did the mood change so quickly_?

One of his hands is smoothly working up her thigh, under the ample skirt of her skater dress, and it's all she can do to lace her fingers together behind his neck, bringing his head closer to hers.

She should probably be worrying about people seeing them because _hey, they are out in the open_, but she quite frankly couldn't care less at the moment. Everything about him is overwhelming her and she _needs this_. (Again and _badly_).

By now, he's fingering the hem of her white, cotton panties, and they're both panting in the other's mouth.

He slowly moves the garment aside and finally brushes her soft and already wet entrance with one finger.

Caroline gasps, detaching their lips for a moment.

Last night, they went straight to the sex—because, _honestly_, it was long overdue—but there is _so much more_ that they can experience together and it's an astonishing sensation.

Klaus doesn't waste any time, and inserts one single digit inside her moist folds, then another. He stays still like that for a moment, letting her get adjusted to his intrusion, then gently separates the two fingers, stretching her.

She moans quietly into his ear, letting her head fall against his shoulder. He can feel her panting against his already heated skin and it just turns him on even more.

He's relentless and unforgiving, moving his fingers inside of her at an inhuman pace, brushing, caressing, twisting. She is so soft, and warm, and _tight_—it's driving him crazy. _She_ is driving him crazy. In every possible way.

Caroline whimpers, almost sobbing out in pleasure as she rubs herself down against his hand. Eventually, he takes pity on her, ever the _merciful_ master—Caroline snorts in her head—bringing his thumb up to press against her clit.

All the pressure is just too much for her to handle now, the burning coil between her legs threatening to snap at any moment.

"_Klaus_–" she sobs.

He increases the speed and intensity of his movements, feeling Caroline shake and tremble in his arms. She tightens the already deadly grip her legs have around his waist and finally comes with a scream that she uselessly tries to muffle against his neck.

The motion makes Klaus feel the tips of her protruding fangs—_her face had never changed back to its human features_.

"_Do it_, love," he grunts out the same two words that she had whispered to him the night before.

She shakes her head against him. "The marks," she trails off uncertainly, _helplessly_. "We don't know what's happening yet."

"I don't care," he answers hoarsely, and in an instant he has bitten into her soft, rosy flash, reopening the wound that he had already marked her with, making her his again and leaving her with no other option but to bite him back.


	3. Chapter 3

"**It was supposed to be a one-time thing, a mistake. But when you're a vampire, life is blood, and blood binds."**

* * *

**A/N: Hola everybodyyyy! (I'm **_**supposed**_** to be learning Spanish at university but 'hola' is still the only word I actually know, so allow me, sigh).**

**Thank you so much for each new review/favorite/follow. I can see through your reviews that some of you are really getting into this story and are appreciating the way I'm writing it, and that makes me unbelievably happy and gives me a lot of motivation to keep going with it. So, thank you, thank you, **_**thank you**_**!**

**Since in this chapter we are going to start and delve deeper into what's going on in the other characters' lives as well, just know that as far as this story is concerned Silas' original plan (although I'm honestly not really sure what it even entailed, The Vampire Diaries is just too confusing at times) has gone through without an itch****—that being Tessa, **_**ahem**_**—and Bonnie came back to life as a normal witch just like she was before she had even died at all. Obviously, since in this story Bonnie met Esther on the Other Side, there will be more to her experience as a ghost, but what I mean to say is that she has not been turned into the anchor in order to come back. I hope that's clear for everybody. Sorry for the mega rant.**

**Bless Bethany (MarsterRoo) for her brilliant beta-reading skills.**

**Hope you'll like this chapter,**

**Giulia.**

* * *

Elena plops herself down on her bed quite unceremoniously, sighing.

"Where do you think she's gone?" she asks Bonnie, worry seeping into her usually calm tone. "It's not like Caroline to skip classes, she's the one who cares the most about all this out of the three of us."

Bonnie slightly rolls her eyes as she rummages through her clothes in search of an appropriate top.

"You mean she's the _only one_ who cares about all this."

Elena frowns at that. "To be honest, I don't think she's so wrong in wanting some normality in her life after all the craziness that we've been going through these past few years."

"Maybe," Bonnie concedes after a moment, closing one of the drawers with more force than necessary as she straightens back up on her feet and shrugs off the purple blouse she's wearing to replace it with a sparkly black vest top. "But I've _died_, Elena, college isn't really top on my list of priorities right now. I've been given a second chance at life and I intend to fully enjoy it."

Elena nods, smiling softly. "I understand," she says—but no, she doesn't, not really. Her and Caroline are vampires, _immortal_, something that Bonnie will never be.

The witch finally turns to her friend, a huge grin plastered on her face as she opens her arms at her sides and shows off her new outfit.

"So, what do you think?"

"I think that you look smoking hot, Bon," the brunette laughs, simply happy to finally have her best friend back after having been so sure that she had lost her forever.

"I know, right?" the other girl joins in the laughter. "Just let me go to the bathroom real quick and then we can leave, okay?"

"Sure. I'll text Damon to meet us there and try to call Caroline again."

"It's a _frat party_, Elena," Bonnie rolls her eyes again. "You shouldn't bring your boyfriend along," she quips before disappearing into the bathroom just as Elena throws her a somewhat dumbfounded look and busies herself with her phone nonetheless.

Bonnie carefully locks the bathroom door behind her, moving towards the big, square mirror propped just above the washbasin.

She turns the cold water knob and lets the fresh liquid flow down on her hands. It feels nice. Every material, _tangible_ sensation has felt nice for her in these past few couples of days since she has come back to the 'land of the living'. It still feels surreal to think about the fact that she had actually been dead—like _dead,_ dead—for over four months.

_Her life was never supposed to be like this_.

Sighing, she shuts her eyes tight and bows down a bit, splashing some water on her face.

She takes a moment before exhaling forcefully through her mouth and then lifting herself up again.

Her heart jumps in her throat and she's barely able to stifle a gasp at the sight that greets her on the mirror.

"_Esther._.." she whispers—Elena is gifted with enhanced vampire hearing and she's only on the other side of the door.

"Don't worry, Bonnie, your friend can't hear us," the original witch reassures her with a kind smile that only makes her blood freeze even more in her veins.

"What do you want?"

"You know what I want."

"It's too soon," Bonnie stutters, her hands gripping the edge of the sink as she feels her legs shaking and barely sustaining her.

"_I_ made the spell. I know it will take you quite some time to get everything together. I just felt it appropriate to remind you of our deal," her cold, stony eyes focus into Bonnie's. "I would hate, dear child, for you to have to rejoin me here, were anything to go wrong."

Bonnie nods, the threat heard loud and clear—she had never been that naïve to believe she would find an easy way out of this mess, anyway.

"I remember our deal," she replies with all the confidence that she can muster, which is not much. "And I have every intention of seeing it through."

"Good," Esther smiles again, and it's _downright terrifying_.

Bonnie opens her mouth again for a moment, but nothing comes out.

The mirror flashes blood red for less than a second and then everything is gone, and all she can see reflected back to her is her scared, trembling stance, and the death dancing in her eyes.

"Bonnie, are you okay in there?" Elena's slightly concerned voice reaches her through the door, bringing her back to the present.

She doesn't answer, simply somehow wills her legs to move again and finally opens the door to find her two best friends looking at her with furrowed eyebrows.

"Yeah, sorry," she shakes her head with a strained smile. "Hey, Care."

Caroline greets her with a small nod, seemingly on edge.

"Yeah, _someone_," Elena smiles, turning towards her blonde friend with a pointed look. "Finally decided to grace us with her presence," she teases.

Caroline rolls her eyes just as Bonnie laughs, trying her best to forget all about her latest encounter in the bathroom—she _deserves_ this night.

"That's great. At least she can be my wingman since Damon is coming."

Caroline does a gagging sound, earning another laugh from Bonnie while their brunette friend regards them both with a stern look.

"Seriously, Elena? Damon might as well just enroll and get a dorm room already."

"Shut up, you two," she reproaches them with an accusing pointing finger, but her tone is light and teasing and a smile is still adorning her lips. "It's not my fault you two don't have a fine piece of man yourselves," she grins, pushing them both towards the door.

"Oh, yeah, it's definitely the jealousy talking," Bonnie snorts. "How did you find out that I'm actually in love with Damon?" she feigns a gasp, widening her eyes in a bewildered expression.

Elena simply rolls her eyes, elbowing her friend jokingly, and the last thing heard before the trio finally closes the door behind them is Caroline's shrill, teasing voice.

"I'm still team Stefan!"

**:**

**:**

Sighing, Klaus finally arrives at the bottom of the staircase, blond hair still mildly wet after his very long shower.

He had taken his time to think—_a lot_ of it, actually—but the result had been pretty useless. No matter the fact that he _knows_ that chances are that his and Caroline's bite marks not disappearing can mean nothing but trouble, he couldn't help himself from drinking from her again earlier—effectively forcing her to bite into him again as well, as his werewolf venom would have been otherwise fatal to her (although he didn't exactly hear her complain about it).

It scares him, really, like very few things have scared him in his whole existence—_and isn't that saying something_?—that he can't seem to control himself when it comes to Caroline.

He's _the original hybrid_, after all, and he has roamed this Earth for over a thousand years, shouldn't he be able to deny himself some blood when the situation is potentially already dangerous?

It's hard to explain—_impossible_—this pull that he feels towards her. Towards her body, her blood, her _mind_. Everything about her just draws him in, and he's powerless against it—against _her_. He's not even sure if he actually _wants_ to fight it—this wondrous, astonishing, new feeling, _this choking_, this relentless, infinite grip that she has on his black, black heart—for it makes him feel alive and he has been dead since he had taken his first breath.

(He understands it now, that being human and being alive don't necessarily mean the same thing. They don't to him).

And, is he (immortal) willing to risk his life—_is this a trap, a spell, a curse_—if it means that he gets to feel Caroline's petal soft lips on his again, her warm, delicate body writhing under his in pleasure, her voice whispering and whimpering his name like it's him that she has been waiting for and wanting her whole life?

_Yes_.

The realization doesn't even startle him, doesn't even surprise him, but it does make his heart–

–"_Oh, my God. You do have a heart."_–

–go a little heavier, and—aren't you just the _perfect_ Tin Man?

(How _weak_, how _pathetic_).

But he can't help it. And even just _the memory_ of Caroline surrendering to him, her face twisting in pleasure as she came undone around him and screamed his name over and over again—last night, and then again just an hour ago—is enough to make every other sacrifice worth it.

It took him quite some time but, at last, he finally understood—_nothing_, no war won, no kingdom to rule, no immortality gained, matters if you can't share it with someone else special. And Klaus has found her, now, his someone special, and he is not willing to let her go. It's a very un-Klaus-like thought, and _he knows_, but he'd rather spend one more, last day with Caroline than an eternity without her.

Obviously, an eternity _with _Caroline is the option that appeals to him the most, which means that he needs to understand what is going on with the bite marks—sooner, rather than later.

The slight creaking of the front door opening reaches his ears, and he's on alert in an instant, ready to pounce, ready to fight, _but_–

"Elijah?"

"Hello, Niklaus," the older Mikaelson greets him, the usual half smirk gracing his lips.

But Klaus has no time nor patience for pleasantries—and, _really_, when does he ever?

"What are you doing here?" he asks, harshly—he still hasn't completely lost his tense stance, for he can still see a fight, however maybe not physical anymore, ahead.

Elijah sighs, almost wistfully, and closes the door behind him with next to no noise although it does resound throughout the whole, silent, tense and empty hall.

"You had said you'd be back in a day."

"Yes. And that was just _yesterday_, if I recall correctly."

"And yet, here you are. You don't seem to me to be on your way back to New Orleans."

Klaus eyes him warily, clenching his jaw in annoyance. "I believe I can take as much time away from _my_ kingdom as I please."

Elijah bows his head slightly towards him, almost as if in a complaisant nod, his eyebrows furrowing in a scold. "I just don't understand what there could possibly be here of greater importance to you."

"That is none of your business," he replies hastily, the hints of his anger barely hidden beneath the yellow already dancing at the corners of his eyes.

It is _just_ too late when he notices the recognition crossing his brother's eyes in a flash–

–so _there is_ something.

His hands ball in fists at his sides, his jaw clenching almost painfully—Elijah _cannot_ know about Caroline.

_Old scars and burns are hard to heal_.

"Actually, I believe it _is_ my business—whatever it is that you are planning," Elijah retorts, a strong, determined edge to his as ever composed tone. "You always seem to bring our family down with you, and I'm not going to let you do that this time."

"What family?" Klaus scoffs. "Rebekah only stays with me out of her own misery, and _you_—you are distrusting me even now, _Brother_," he spits the last word with loathing, an incredulous laugh tottering on the tip of his actually (deep, _deep_ down) hurt tone.

"_With cause_," Elijah points out forcefully, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, I can promise you that what I'm handling here at the moment concerns neither you nor Rebekah."

Elijah's face twists in a mixture of concern and skepticism–

–"_See, I've learned not to trust your vulgar promises, Klaus."_–

–and for a fleeting moment he seems to be on the verge of speaking again, of saying more, but then decides against it.

"Aren't you going to offer me something?" he sighs, eventually, and finally shrugs off his dark blue coat.

If his sudden acquiescence surprises Klaus, then the latter doesn't show it, as a smirk makes its way to his lips and he promptly turns on his feet to walk into the spacious and dimly illuminated living room, immediately going towards his alcohol stash cabinet—he, too, could really use a drink after all.

He takes out two tumblers and one of the most expensive bottles of Bourbon that he owns, effortlessly pouring the liquid down into the two glasses.

By then, Elijah has joined him in the room, sitting on one of the two mirroring leather couches, a somewhat pensive look that promises no good still present on his face.

With a nod, he accepts the proffered whiskey glass and then Klaus opts for the opposite couch, relaxing against it with an arm thrown lazily on the back of it.

The silence is deafening.

"Is everything fine back home?" Klaus asks, his voice scratching slightly, almost catching in his throat, as his accent wraps around the word _home_—_how could New Orleans ever possibly be home with a family that hates him and without the woman that he loves by his side?_

Elijah raises his eyes into his brother's warily, mindlessly twisting his wrist and making the glass move, the liquid inside of it twirling around almost gently.

"Everything is under control, yes," he answers eventually, with a sigh. "You've won, Niklaus. You shouldn't worry about it anymore."

The hybrid's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching imperceptibly at the almost scolding, obliging tone. Elijah may be the eldest, but Klaus was the strongest and the most powerful of them all, and that was _his_ kingdom. _Only_ his.

"I'm taking a few days away from it all. Does it seem to you like something a worried man would do?" he smirks challengingly, his eyes glinting dangerously as he finally brings the tumbler to his lips and takes a big, first sip.

Elijah shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips as he looks down and briefly closes his eyes.

"Of course not, that is not what I meant. It would do you some good to not take everything to heart so much, Brother."

The reproach, no matter how lightly pronounced, only enrages Klaus even further.

(Elijah _knows_, but he's done tiptoeing around his own brother).

"I _don't have_ a heart, Elijah—remember?" he retorts after a moment, his face hard and unreadable, the perfect mask of his faux indifference.

Elijah frowns, displeased by such a comment.

"If only you let yourself open to love,"–

–Klaus just _has_ to mentally scoff, because—look at where _that_ had gotten him, right?–

–"you would perhaps realize that your heart is not as dead as you believe it to be."

Yeah. Like he _doesn't bloody know_. Like it's not already tearing him apart, hurting him worse than a white oak stake ever could, bringing him down on his knees, back to ashes.

He scoffs, instead (for real, this time), and stares off around the room because Elijah is still his brother—after everything, _in spite_ of everything—and he would know, he would _see_, he would understand, and he can't. Not yet, at least. Not when he still has to sort through it all himself. It's _too soon_.

"You have way too much faith in me, Brother. I would have thought, that after everything that we have been through together, you would have finally realized that there is no saving me."

He means it as a taunt to Elijah, but his tone is too bitter, too cold and too dejected, and he hurts _himself_ with it instead.

It's like he has just voiced his deepest and most concealed fear, because—he _wants_ to be saved. _All everybody ever wants is to be saved_.

The revelation hangs silently between the two brothers, each finishing their own drink.

But there's only so much one can do when not talking, and it's a matter of seconds before Elijah's vampire eyes finally focus on Klaus' neck.

His eyes widen, if only ever so slightly, and he looks almost comically surprised, his eyebrows furrowing together.

"Niklaus, are you–are you wearing _make-up_?" he asks, squinting his eyes even though he knows that his enhanced sight can't betray him.

"Now, don't be ridiculous, Brother," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Why would I ever?"

"You have... powder. On your neck," Elijah insists, slightly moving forward with his chest although he still does not stand up.

Recognition flashes through Klaus' eyes then—_the bite mark_—and he feels immensely grateful to whichever being above him–

–but there isn't any, really, and he _prides_ himself of that–

–for he had the idea of covering it up right after his shower, or it would be quite the problem now, had Elijah seen it.

He clears his throat, and tries to still act composed and casual, when, in all truthfulness, he's anything but. But he really doesn't need Elijah prying on in this situation when he's still not sure what it means himself, so he needs to be extra smart about it.

"I've just had a shower," he answers, eventually, exhaling forcefully through his mouth to convey an air of annoyance at how utterly ridiculous Elijah is being. "Something must have inadvertently dropped on me while I was in the bathroom, I suppose."

It's a weak excuse, and _he knows_. Because, _really_, when does a vampire ever drop anything or let something drop on himself, right? But all Elijah does is arch his eyebrows for a moment and then sigh, although looking utterly unconvinced.

After a moment, Klaus sets his now empty glass on the small table between the two couches and then stands up, head held up high and shoulders straightened.

"If you'll excuse me, Brother, I have somewhere I need to be now. But you're free to stay here in Mystic Falls as well, as long as you please."

Both men know that that's a big albeit needed—Klaus doesn't want Elijah to get any more suspicious than he already is—lie, but, regardless, all the older sibling does is nod politely.

Klaus retrieves his leather jacket from the hall stand and then doesn't waste one more second before leaving the house. He can't quite pinpoint _why_, but he feels a sort of uneasiness, and every cell in his body is screaming at him to go and visit Caroline again—for he needs her far much more than he needs blood—but he doesn't want to be too oppressive. He needs for _her_ to come to _him_ willingly.

Instead, his fingers quickly dial the number of the only person he knows that might help him to actually shed some light on the whole situation.

When someone on the other line finally picks up, he smirks.

"Sweetheart, long time no talk."

**:**

**:**

For the second time that day, although the sky is now much darker and the air much colder, Klaus finds himself wandering around Whitmore College, hands firmly clasped behind his back.

When he called his witch, earlier—_Darlene_, she was the most knowledgeable witch he knew, and he knew _many_—her voice didn't falter for one instant as she told him, deep-rooted hatred laced in her strong Southern accent, that she would have to see both him and _his girl_—the thrill that those two words pronounced in reference to Caroline sent down his spine was as exciting as it was scary—to assess the situation.

Not wanting to lose any precious time, and also feeling the incredible need to see Caroline again, Klaus was in his car and on the road before he had even hung up the call yet.

Now, a small smirk makes its way to his lips as he foresees Caroline's indignant but blushing reaction at him showing up unexpectedly twice in the same day.

He's already on his way to her dorm room, when a commotion coming from the building on the other side of the campus courtyard catches his immediate attention.

Curious, he rather unceremoniously stops the first boy that comes across him by the lapels of his jacket, rolling his eyes as the poor freshman widens his and gulps down nervously.

"What's going on in there?" he tilts his head towards the aforementioned building.

"A party," the boy answers straight away, although almost gingerly. "For all the freshmen."

Klaus smirks—_found her_. Caroline certainly isn't one for missing an opportunity to mingle, now, is she?

"Thank you, mate," he releases the boy, who stumbles awkwardly on his feet and nods before quickly scurrying away.

Smirk firmly in place, he purposefully strides towards the entrance of the building, the crowd rounded around it parting like the Red Sea at his confidence and narrowed eyes—it gives him a twisted sense of pride mixed with satisfaction, to know that he can still make people fear him without them even knowing just _how_ dangerous he really is to their petty, fleeting, human lives.

As soon as he's finally inside, he strains his hearing and starts looking around the spacious but overly crowded and loud room. He knows that if Caroline is here, it won't take him long to find her—he _is_ scarily in tune with her, after all—but he also knows that if she's present then it means that the doppelgänger and the Bennett witch will most likely be as well, and he most certainly has no intention of bumping into them, for both _his_ and _their_ sake. (He's also pretty sure that Caroline wouldn't be too keen on her pathetically judgmental friends knowing what the two of them have been up to lately, and he doesn't want to ruin the fairly good mood between them just yet).

Luckily for him, it doesn't take him more than a minute to catch the familiar sound of her tinkling laughter, but as he moves through the mass of people to follow it to its originating source, the sight that greets him quickly makes his blood boil in his veins.

Caroline is leaning against a wall, her back to him and a drink in hand as she casually chats and laughs with some overly muscular frat boy who is standing way too close to her for Klaus' liking.

It really takes all of his willpower to not just spring there and snap the pathetic boy's neck for daring to get that close to _his_ Caroline. Because _he knows_ now, he knows that she returns his feelings (some of them, at least), and he'll be damned–

–_but isn't he already?_–

–if he lets some stupid, pointless boy get in the way of that. _No_. He was—and still is, to an extent—willing to wait for her as she sorted through her relationship with Tyler and came to terms with how she really felt about him, but he has no intention to just stand there as she plays pretend and flirts with the first poor excuse of a man in sight to forget what has transpired between them.

With strong and long, purposeful strides, he walks the distance between him and the pair in mere seconds, his face hard and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

He can see the exact moment in which Caroline finally feels his presence behind them, as her whole body stiffens imperceptibly and her neck slightly tilts to the side, almost as if she wants to look back towards him but, at last, refrains.

He barely acknowledges the boy—a quick _'Sorry, mate'_ to his funnily outraged expression when he's not sorry really, not at all, and it's obvious in his smirk and the mirth dancing at the corners of his eyes. _She's his_, and if somebody dares looking at her like that ever again then it's their blood pumping through his rotten heart and their bleeding organs in his hands next time. So, he simply grips her elbow—and it's _oh, so familiar_ to Caroline, and she shouldn't have goosebumps rising on her skin at such a simple contact—and takes her somewhere else more private.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Caroline!" he shouts, eyes blazing with barely restrained fury. They're in a deserted hallway now, upstairs, but his thundering tone is still subdued by the deafening music and the loud people dancing under their feet.

Caroline's eyes widen. "What the hell _I_ am doing?" she scoffs disbelievingly. "What about _you_? What makes you think that you have any right to drag me away from a company that I was very much enjoying?" she challenges him, her words aiming for the vulnerable jealousy that she can see in his darkened, blue eyes, because—what is she good at if not _hurting_ him?

Klaus' eyes narrow on her as he takes a dangerous step forward, intruding into her personal space like he loves so much to do (another one of their _things_, she supposes).

"Don't test me, love," he warns her through gritted teeth.

She scoffs again, defying him (she's _always_ defying him, again and again and again), and then folds her arms across her chest, making it impossible for his stare to not focus on her more than prosperous cleavage, her breasts unfairly proportionate when compared to her lithe, thin figure. She has changed since he has last seen her, only a couple of hours ago, and she's now wearing a much more provocative and revealing purple top. It makes him go mad with both need but also anger at the thought of any other man seeing her like this.

Eventually, he's the one who sighs, relenting (it's always him, really, for he's unashamedly scared of losing her, of scaring her away for good).

"Let's not have a replay of today's silly, little spat, shall we?"

"Oh, I'm sure you wouldn't mind replaying our earlier _spat_," she mumbles, almost to herself, as she turns to her right to look at nothing in particular.

It's obvious _which_ kind of 'spat' she's actually referring to, and Klaus can't help the mischievous grin that takes shape on his lips, taking another step forward so that they're literally almost chest to chest and all Caroline can do is turn her stare into his again.

"Are you offering, love?"

Caroline scoffs, but the slight blush forming on her cheeks is unmistakable. She does all that she can to avoid his eyes though, shaking her head.

"As if it's not bad enough–" but she pauses, unsure. "We don't even know what's going on with these," she points to the side of her neck, the bite mark covered in foundation much like his is as well.

She knows that, technically, she hasn't exactly answered his question—_Is she offering?_—but the bite marks _are_ indeed a problem that they need to sort out, and therefore both choose to ignore her diversion. For the time being, at least.

Klaus' eyebrows furrow, and he brings a hand up to caress the slightly colder spot on Caroline's neck. In a second, she has her fingers around his wrist, stopping him.

"Don't. It will show."

"I want it to show," he whispers, gently backing her against the wall behind her.

"That's twisted," she breathes out. She intends it as an hateful, disgusted, low blow, but her voice comes out too low and too breathless as he bends down slightly to kiss her neck, licking away the concealing make-up so that he can see his branding mark on her again.

He hums against her skin, and the vibrations go straight to her already aching core, making her womb clench and twist painfully in need as she squirms under the pleasant weight of his body.

"Don't," she says as firmly as she possibly can, resting one hand against his chest and pushing him away.

They both know that, had he really wanted, she would have never been able to distance his body from hers, but he wants _her_, _willingly_, and he knows that she's almost there on her own already.

He _does_ have something to tell her, anyway. It's the main reason why he had come all the way here in the first place (or so he believes), but it's far too easy to lose himself when he's with her.

Somehow begrudgingly, he takes a step back.

"I have news, actually."

Caroline's eyebrows lift in pleasant surprise. "You do?"

"Sort of. I contacted a witch of mine. She knows all that there is to know about everything supernatural, but she needs to see the both of us to understand what the situation is."

"Oh, alright. When is she coming?"

"Oh, sweetheart, so naïve," Klaus grins, earning himself an annoyed glare from the blonde. "She's not. _We_ will be going to her."

Caroline grimaces. "Where?" she asks without preamble.

"She lives in Alabama. Montgomery, to be exact."

The vampire huffs, briefly closing her eyes. "Alright. When are we going?"

"Well, I'd say the sooner the better. So... tomorrow?"

"Okay, I guess," she sighs, her mind already working a mile a minute, thinking of what she could possibly tell Elena and Bonnie to excuse her disappearance for a whole day. Today had already been a close call, skipping almost all of her classes only because she couldn't seem to be able to control herself when she was around Klaus—it _couldn't_ happen ever again. Because, if there is anything Caroline hates, it's not being in control.

Klaus nods, a seemingly satisfied smirk on his lips. "Should I pick you up from here tomorrow morning then?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," she answers, trying to make the annoyance she feels as clear as possible through her dismissive tone.

"Be ready at five, then."

"_What_? Why in hell do we have to leave that early?"

"Well, it _is_ a ten hour car ride, love."

"Oh, God, are you _insane_? _Car_ ride? Aren't you like a multimillionaire or something? Just get us a private jet!" she complains rather petulantly, once again crossing her arms over her chest.

Klaus groans. "Can you _not_ do that, love?"

"Do what?" she frowns.

"_That_," he gestures towards her chest, an almost pained expression on his face. "I want you, but you're being petty, so–"

She gasps, effectively interrupting him, her arms immediately falling at her sides as her whole neck and face grow hot in sheer embarrassment.

"So it is _my_ fault?" she snorts indignantly. "Just learn some self-control! What are you, thirteen?"

"I can't exactly control myself around you, love."

(And it is _so bad_ that his voice makes chills go down her spine and heat pool between her legs).

"Well, I don't care," she stutters, miserably failing at trying to look unaffected.

"Mmh. You didn't seem to mind yesterday. Or earlier, for that matter," he utters quietly, once again backing her against the wall, his hard body pressing completely against her much softer one.

Caroline gulps, breathing heavily. "Stop."

Their noses are touching, and they're panting into each other's mouth. They're _so close_, their eyes having nowhere else to look at if not into the other's intense and compelling gaze.

Caroline's blue irises are almost trembling, and she's clenching her hands in fists so hard that her nails are leaving deep cuts and drawing blood. But Klaus can smell it far too well and it only worsens the predicament that they're in even more. They gave in once already, and they both know that they can't, not anymore, not until they at least know what this all means, not until they know what's actually happening to them.

Taking a deep breath, Klaus closes his eyes for a couple of seconds that actually feel like an eternity, his jaw clenching with barely controlled restrain.

Eventually, he seems to calm down, albeit only slightly, and reopens his gaze into Caroline's. It's as intense and as full of such a variety of complex emotions that neither of them can quite decipher yet as ever, and her breath catches in her throat.

"Never," he answers to her previous statement, his tone exuding a finality that should have her quiver in fear, but instead only makes her tremble even more in anticipation.

Their blue eyes stay fused for a moment more, and then he's gone before she can even blink.

Closing her eyes and sighing heavily, Caroline finally allows herself to relax, leaning against the cool wall behind her.

The ten hour car ride awaiting her tomorrow should be quite interesting.


	4. Chapter 4

"**It was supposed to be a one-time thing, a mistake. But when you're a vampire, life is blood, and blood binds."**

* * *

**A/N: Ho, ho, ho! (I really love Christmas, don't look at me like that!)**

**As always, thank you for each new review/favorite/follow, every single one means the world to me, _really_. Just a little warning that the next few chapters might take a while to be done and published because, unfortunately, I really have to start studying for my university exams, sigh.**

**This is un-beta'ed because I wanted to publish it before Christmas, so I'm sorry for any possible mistake... English is not my first language.**

**Enjoy this chapter (it's the longest I've ever written for any of my stories so far, so I'm really proud of it!), and happy holidays,**

**Giulia.**

* * *

Klaus texts her at the break of dawn, letting her know that he's waiting for her in the campus' parking lot.

Thankfully, Bonnie is half wasted after last night's party, and Elena has been MIA since they had crossed the threshold of that frat house (doing God knows what God knows where with Damon), so sneaking out is relatively easy as she decides that she will feed their prying consciences an excuse for her disappearance later or even tomorrow.

Softly, Caroline tiptoes outside of her dorm room and carefully closes the door behind her. She knows that she should be nothing but bothered and annoyed right now, but the truth is that she cannot help but feel a certain amount of excitement at the prospect of spending a whole day alone with Klaus. A day that, _she knows_ (it's _Klaus_, after all), can only go two ways—amazingly well, or down down _down_ sinking faster than you can say _'Titaniiiiic!'_.

When she finally reaches the parking lot and spots Klaus, her breath catches a little in her throat. He's leaning casually against the side of his car, a pair of dark sunglasses low on his nose and the usual taunting smirk on his lips. It's still early—_too_ early if you ask her—but it's not too cold (but they're vampires, after all, so it's really not their place to say, now, is it?) and he's only wearing a far too fitting light gray Henley, which makes his shoulders and forearms look _so fucking hot_ as he keeps his arms crossed over his chiseled—she _knows_—chest, the variety of necklaces around his neck begging to be pulled at so she can smash her lips onto his.

_God_–

–she groans in her mind. She has just barely caught a glimpse of him and she's already aching with need—_fucking perfect_.

"Good morning, love," he grins, straightening himself up and taking off his sunglasses so that he can take a proper look at her in her casual, black leggings and pink sweater.

"Hi," Caroline greets him back with an almost shy smile, trying to banish her far from pure, current thoughts to the back of her mind. She has a purpose today—to understand what the hell those bite marks mean and fix it—and she has no intention of letting _anything_ (or better, _anyone_) get in her way.

Ever the gentleman, Klaus leads her to the passenger's side of the car, a not-so-subtle hand pressing against the small of her back and leaving a burning hole in her skin, and keeps the door open for her as she settles inside on the comfortable leather seat.

It's only a second after he closes the door behind her, that he's at her left behind the wheel, smirk ever in place.

"Ready, love?"

She rolls her eyes, fixing her seatbelt around her out of habit. "As I'll ever be," she mutters, just as he finally starts the car, shifting into reverse as he exists the empty parking lot.

Klaus chuckles, mindlessly paying attention to the road as he much prefers looking at the blonde beauty by his side.

"Don't pout. You seemed to enjoy my company quite nicely these past two days," he teases, trying to sound nonchalant even if his heart is hammering in his chest at the mere memories.

Caroline scoffs. "Are you going to bring up the fact that we have slept together every second? It's not going to make me suddenly think that I feel something for you," she snaps, downplaying him as she gives him a poisonous sideways look—attack _is_ the best form of defense, after all.

"People have sex, get over it."

He doesn't say anything back, but he doesn't have to. The way his hands tighten around the faux leather of the steering wheel until his knuckles go white, and the dangerous ticking of his clenched jaw are indication enough of the rage swirling within him.

_She hit a nerve_.

_Good_.

It almost angers Caroline how he doesn't retaliate, doesn't prove her that she's right in being afraid of him, in hating him–

–_but is she afraid of him or of herself when she's around him? And does she really still hate him or only hates the way he makes her feel?_

As an extremely tense silence encompasses them inside the vehicle, Caroline almost regrets her words—her and her damn mouth. (She has never been able to process what to say beforehand, one of her many personality's flaws–

–"_I'm inappropriate. I always say the wrong thing."_).

She swallows.

Her feelings are her own burden, after all, and she cannot exactly fault Klaus for pushing for some answers, for some sort of confirmation of _something_. She _knows_ how he feels about her, even if she likes to pretend otherwise. And even if his past actions and words hadn't been enough of a proof of that–

–"_I intend to be your last."_–

–then the way he kissed her and held her and looked at her as thrust after thrust he swelled inside of her and brought her to the edge of insanity would have made her understand loud and crystal clear. Because it didn't matter if it had been wild and frenzied and bloody, it would be far too easy to say that they had simply _fucked_. _No_, there is so much more between them that she is not willing—not _able_—to acknowledge just yet. He's like _a billion_, after all, while her life is just at its beginning, she needs more time to come to terms with_ this __whole_–_whatever_ it is that they have between them, with a pull stronger than magnetism and feelings too overwhelming for her to bear.

When she speaks again, after a deep breath and telling herself that it's only because a ten hour journey in silence is going to feel like a freaking lifetime, her voice is almost trembling and still heavy with her latest thoughts.

"Look, I'm sorry–"

"I don't need your pity, Caroline," he interrupts her through gritted teeth, hurt evident in his hard tone, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight now that she fears he might break it.

"What?"

"You're apologizing because you think you hurt my feelings," he laughs dryly. "I'll let you know, love, that it takes a lot more than that."

_Lie_. He's truly hurt now and they both know it. It's weird to even just think about it because feeling hurt is such a _human_ notion, and he's supposed to be the farthest thing from human that there is, but her words cut him deeper than a dagger through his heart, and left on the dead organ the umpteenth scar that not even his immortality can heal.

Caroline frowns. "That's not why I apologized. I was overly bitchy and it was uncalled for."

"So you're only doing it to make _yourself_ feel better. _Tomato_,_ potato_."

She huffs, feeling slightly offended, and sullenly crosses her arms over her chest. "Alright, be difficult, whatever."

"You _haven't seen_ difficult, sweetheart. Anybody else would be with their hearts out of their chests and their heads rolling on the street had they talked to me the way you just did," he snarls.

Again, Caroline talks before thinking.

"Then why am I not?" she bites back, cringing as soon as she realizes what she has just said.

For a full moment, she closes her eyes tightly and waits for him to actually harm her in some way—because, _seriously Forbes_, there are only _so many lines_ that you can cross before getting yourself killed—but she only hears him sigh and nothing happens.

"I would hope you'd know by now that I would never hurt you, Caroline," he says, his tone so sad that it breaks her heart a little.

She notices that his hands are not as tight on the steering wheel anymore, and so she allows herself to relax a bit against the back of her seat as well. Now, he looks almost dejected, and tired. It's such an harsh contrast from his previous anger that she is not sure what to do or say—his mood swings are impossible to predict or let alone handle, and it gives her whiplash. _He_ gives her whiplash.

Secretly (or maybe not so secretly anymore), she enjoys it. The thrill, the excitement. He gives her something that she has never had or felt before, and it's so incredible that it makes her heart clench, because—_how is she supposed to let go of somethin__g like that?_

"I just don't understand why," she says eventually, her voice low even to her own vampire ears. "Why you're so different with _me_, of all people."

It's her most rooted doubt, her deepest fear. She's not Elena. She's not even Bonnie, a witch. She's–

–_useless_.

It doesn't matter how hard she tries to overgrow that feeling of never being _anything_ enough, it's what she has been living with since she can possibly remember and _it's difficult_.

She knows that she has changed terribly in the last few years, that she had matured, that she had become a better daughter, a better friend, a better _person_ (but she _isn't_ a person, not anymore), but the present just doesn't make the past disappear. Just like the good things and memories can't just make the nightmares and mistakes go away.

(Is she even still talking about herself? Or is she just projecting it on Klaus?)

Blinking, she somehow wills back the tears that are threatening to form at the corners of her eyes, biting down on her trembling bottom lip.

From her peripheral vision, she can see Klaus turning to look at her, and she can't help but do the same, blue meeting blue.

It feels like an eternity before he speaks.

"I don't think you're quite ready for us to have that conversation, yet."

They keep staring into each other's eyes for a moment more, Caroline with her mouth slightly parted in an almost dazed, stunned expression. Then, Klaus simply turns his focus back on the road.

In serious need of some fresh air (vampires don't even need to breathe, but she's _flustered_), Caroline presses the button next to her to lower down her seat's window, letting the light, early morning breeze cool her down as she props an elbow up against the inner side of the door and rests her head on her hand.

She doesn't even know what to make of Klaus' words. It's not like him to be this cryptic about his intentions and feelings towards her, and it only makes her even more agitated. But, after all, hasn't she been having the same thoughts just a couple of minutes before? She's not yet ready for _this_. Not completely, at least. And, had Klaus dropped on her the umpteenth compliment and promise of eternal devotion, at _this_ time, she would have probably flipped and gone into bitchy mode all over again. No, instead, he's trying to give her the space and time–

–and how must that _kill_ him, a being used to just take and take and take whatever he wants whenever he wants it–

–that he knows she desperately needs. Because he _knows__ her_. Better than she knows herself, at times. And that scares her. How could it not?

Also, he has put his heart on the line for her more than enough times already, and she supposes that he's probably reaching his boiling point by now. Rejection after glare after scoff. And it's not like she can blame him for that, because there is only so much that a proud man like him—or _any _man, really—can take.

Both parts lost in their own thoughts, the first hour and a half flies by (not like there are eight and a half more to go, but it's a start).

Caroline's phone beeps inside her purse, signaling a new text.

With a sigh, she looks for the phone among the other many—_many_—things thrown inside of her bag, and checks the message.

It's Bonnie.

_-Bon: Where the hell are you? And where's Elena?_

The dramatic over-use of the question marks makes her crack a small smile, as she racks her brain for what to answer to her best friend. She thumbs over the screen a couple of times and sighs again, catching Klaus' attention, who turns to look at her with raised eyebrows and an inquisitive expression.

"Problems, love?"

His voice is calm and he's calling her love with that natural, light lull to his accent again—it lifts a huge weight off her chest. To her, it means 'argument forgotten'. For the moment, at least.

"Sort of," she answers, slightly shaking her head. "I didn't tell my friends I was leaving, because I thought I would have had the whole day today to think about a suitable excuse for it, but–well, I kinda forgot they could still ask via text or call me."

"Ah, I see. Can't exactly tell them you're spending the day with the _big bad_. Or why," he says with a bitter tone.

Caroline turns to him for a second to glare at him. "No, I can't."

Klaus shrugs, refocusing his whole attention to the road in front of them. "Well, then I'm afraid I cannot help you there, love."

She returns to her own thing as well, finally typing in a reply for Bonnie.

_-Me: I don't know about Elena. I'm packed for the whole day with errands to run, sorry I didn't wake you up to tell you, it was super early when I left!_

She shuts her eyes tightly, crossing her fingers and praying in her mind–

–_Please, please, Bonnie, please, don't ask which errands. Don't pry, don't pry, don't pry._

Her phone beeps again, and she opens one eye at a time to look at the new text.

_-Bon: It's fine, I was wasted anyway ahah. Skipping classes as well then! Will try to reach Elena. Ttyl?_

Releasing a huge sigh of relief, Caroline replies.

_-Me: Of course, party girl! Let me know if you find Elena. Bye!_

Blocking the touchscreen of her phone, she puts it back inside her purse and finally relaxes against the back of her seat.

Klaus gives her a sideways glance. "All settled?"

She nods with a smile.

"Do you want to stop and get some breakfast, then? Did you have anything this morning?"

"Uhm, no," she blushes, feeling slightly embarrassed for not having thought about it.

"Breakfast it is, then," he concludes with a smirk that slightly alerts Caroline.

She frowns. "When you say _breakfast_–"

"I mean _breakfast_. In a bar. With pancakes and coffee or whatever is of your liking," he reassures her, rolling his eyes. "But if you want to sneak on a local, love, don't let me stop you."

"What, _no_!" she replies forcefully, outraged. She knows that he's only teasing her—he knows her better than that—but _still_. Mostly, her annoyance is probably due to the fact that she _is_ starving (_vampire_ starving), and she mentally chastises herself for not having thought of bringing along at least a blood bag. It's not like her to be so unprepared, and she blames it entirely on Klaus and the hold that he unconsciously has on the majority of her thoughts.

He smirks again as she eyes him warily, knowing full well that he's on a revenge mission to rile her up.

"No need to get angry, love. If you don't want to hurt or kill somebody, you can always drink from me," he suggests slyly, a dangerous glint to his eyes.

Immediately, her cheeks grow hot, heat flaring at the pit of her stomach. To try and cover up how much he has the power to affect her, she scoffs.

"Yeah, like _that_'s gonna happen."

"It already did, love. Several times, if I remember."

"Well, it's not going to happen again until we know what the hell is going on with the creepy bite marks."

Klaus' grin widens, and he turns to look at her with a smug look. "Mmh, _until_. I like the sound of it. Means you want it to happen again eventually, I can work with that."

Caroline's jaw goes slack, her eyes widening as she realizes the hidden meaning of her words. _That stupid, treacherous mind of hers!_

"That's not what I meant!" she quickly rectifies.

"Of course not, love," he mocks her, pleased with himself.

Caroline huffs in deep annoyance. "Whatever. Believe what you want. It's not my problem if you're delusional."

Once again leaning against the side of the door, she feels eternally grateful and relieved as she notices them taking an exit towards a roadside restaurant. If there is anything that she needs right now it's some distance from Klaus, whose close proximity is doing nothing to help her reign in her urges—both her vampire _and_ her sexual ones.

As soon as they're parked, she's out of the car, stretching her legs and arms. She checks her phone and groans when she realizes that it's barely seven.

"Come on, love. We have to hit the road again soon."

With a sigh, Caroline follows Klaus towards the cozy looking restaurant.

"Where are we exactly, now?"

"Just outside Sparta, in North Carolina," he answers with a sigh. "Still a long way to go."

Caroline is not even the littlest bit surprised anymore as Klaus opens the door for her and lets her enter first. She knows that she should not even entertain such thoughts, but she has such high expectations of men now, after Klaus. It's almost crazy to think, because he still is a ruthless killer who brings chaos and mayhem wherever he goes, but he's always so considerate towards her and such a gentleman that she can't help but admit to herself that nobody will ever even remotely compare when it comes to treating her right and making her feel special.

With her heart a bit heavier at each new revelation, Caroline excuses herself to the bathroom, while Klaus chooses a private, small table for two.

As he waits for her, he allows himself a few deep breaths, closing his eyes as he rests comfortably against the back of his booth.

When he opted for a several hours long car ride to get them to Montgomery, hoping to be able to make Caroline at least _acknowledge_ that she felt _something_ towards him in the long time that they would have to spend alone together, Klaus hadn't exactly considered the tempting effect that _her_ close presence would have had on _him_, instead.

The enclosed space of his car was fully encompassed by her warmth, heat radiating off her body and into his in pleasurable waves. Her fruity, feminine and distinctively _Caroline_ scent engulfed all of his senses and, no matter how hard she tried to defy him or how many times she kept repeating that she felt nothing but deep hatred towards him (their latest encounters be damned), his hybrid capabilities very well enabled him to smell the strong desire that she had for him, and the scent of her obvious arousal permeating the air between them had been driving him positively crazy the whole time. For the whole almost two hours that they had now been on the road, he had wanted nothing more than to pull the car over and claim her as his once again. It was distracting and maddening, and he didn't know for how much longer he would have been able to endure such an inviting temptation—or punishment, as you will.

Having to adjust in his seat at the mere thoughts of everything that he _could_ and _would_ do to her, Klaus finally takes one last deep breath to calm himself down before her return from the toilets.

_Two hours gone, eight still to go_ (not counting their stay there and then the journey back home). But _he is_ Klaus Mikaelson, and there is _nothing_ that he cannot handle—or so he likes to believe, anyway, his mind chiming in that there is a _certain blonde_ who would beg to differ—and at least he is finally going to get some overdue answers.

**:**

**:**

It's four in the afternoon when Klaus and Caroline finally enter Darlene's quaint, little antique store on Monroe Street in Montgomery, Alabama.

After their swift pit stop in North Carolina, they both returned to the car somehow calmer, relishing in the very much needed breaths of fresh air, and in the food that they had consumed and that had, if only slightly, somewhat helped their blood cravings, as well as their more carnal ones.

Still, Klaus and Caroline being–well, _Klaus and Caroline_, the tense mood between them could never really be completely gone. So, in order to avoid, at least for some time, the umpteenth misunderstanding or unnecessary argument, Caroline opted for a quick nap to regain some energy. She _had_ slept very little, anyway. (Not to add that being awake and vigil around Klaus when she could feel a desperate hunger for blood—more precisely, _his_ blood, that she knew tasted better than any other—was about to make her lose her mind).

With Caroline fast asleep beside him, Klaus allowed himself to relax a bit as well. For some reason, knowing that she wasn't conscious made him feel a lot less agitated and on edge, and also allowed him to freely gaze over her soft, beautiful features, feeling a continuous tug at his heart at the memory of her lips on his and her arms around him, holding onto him like she never wanted to let go. Whatever it was going to take, he would make sure to make her his and _only_ his, one day. He could only hope that day wasn't too far.

Klaus woke Caroline up when they were around half an hour outside of Montgomery, so that she could reassess herself, but the rest of the journey had nonetheless been pretty quiet.

In all honesty, Caroline had about a million questions swirling around her furiously ever worrying mind–

–_Who exactly was this Darlene? How powerful was she really? How did Klaus even know her? Could they believe her? And, most importantly, could they trust her?_–

–but voiced none of them. Something very unusual of her, _yes_, but again, the _whole_ situation was rather unusual on its own already. So, all she really knew about this witch was that she apparently was the most powerful Klaus had ever come across—and she didn't doubt that he had met quite a few strong witches over the centuries—and that he seemed quite sure that she would find an answer to their problem.

If she has to be completely honest with herself, calling it a _problem_ sort of bothers her, and she cannot understand why (which bothers her even more). She just knows that it's been a long day already, and she feels like screaming or pulling her hair out, or maybe both. But at the same time, and it makes her forcefully try and swallow down the nerves that threaten to make her choke for the lack of air that she doesn't need, the more time she is spending with Klaus, the more she craves him and needs him, the more she knows that it will be terribly hard to let him go again.

The bell above their heads chimes lightly, and as she looks up at it, Caroline's eyes notice what looks like a dreamcatcher hanging from the door as well.

Her step falters and she feels like she's suffocating, like the place is just too hot, too small, and _too freaking brown_.

"Come on, love," Klaus whispers just above her ear, and, suddenly, she feels him resting a reassuring hand on the small of her back (she hates to admit it, but the gesture _does_ soothe her somehow), willing her to move forward.

There's a blonde girl working behind the counter, her head down and a pencil between her teeth. She doesn't really look any older than Caroline herself is, so she doubts _that_'s Darlene, but you can never really know with witches, can you?

Klaus dryly clears his throat, catching by surprise the girl, who jumps slightly, bringing a hand up to feel her racing heart. She opens her mouth, an apology for her distracted behavior on the tip of her tongue, but, as soon as her eyes meet Klaus', she freezes. Caroline notices her gaze shifting towards the door, her brows furrowing almost imperceptibly—she looks scared, but not like she's trying to figure out how to escape, just confused, almost as if something didn't quite work as it should have.

It's obvious that she knows that they're vampires, and she looks _so young_ that it makes Caroline's heart clench painfully inside of her chest. She's a second away from reassuring her that she does not need to be afraid of them, when the long, deep red curtains behind the counter suddenly flow open.

"_Amia_," a dark-skinned woman says sternly, appearing from behind the young girl with a menacing look aimed solely at Klaus, who's grinning smugly, his hand still on her back.

"Go upstairs," she orders the girl, who doesn't question her, but simply takes her things and jogs up the flight of stairs at the side of the shop which Caroline didn't notice before.

Once the girl is completely out of hearing distance, Klaus finally speaks, his tone a mixture of arrogance and disdain, which is mirrored by the look on the woman's otherwise impassive face.

"Such a pleasure to see you again, dear Darlene."

_So, that's Darlene_—well, she had kinda figured.

The witch scoffs. "I'm afraid I can't say the same about you, hybrid."

"Oh, you hurt my feelings."

"We both know you don't have any of those."

Klaus' gaze hardens, and Caroline swears that his hand presses even more firmly against her back now.

"Moving on—I believe you had told me you could help me."

"I told you I would _try_," she corrects him with a cold stare. "But I _also_ told you that I would need your girl, too, for it."

Caroline snorts before she can help herself, now feeling both pairs of eyes on her, because—_seriously_.

First—she is not _his_ girl, thank you very much. And second—what is she, _freaking invisible_?

Darlene arches a perfect eyebrow at her as she regards her with an almost impressed look.

"Feisty little human blood bag," she comments, almost casually, and it makes Caroline wants to gag.

"I'm not–"

"_She_ is the girl," Klaus replies before she can. "I'm a bit disappointed honestly, sweetheart. Your powers seem to be failing you, if you couldn't even realize that she's a vampire," he taunts her with a dangerous grin.

But the childish jab goes unheard, Darlene's widened eyes fixed on Caroline.

"You shouldn't have been able to come in," it's all the witch manages to say.

Klaus rolls his eyes, not looking fazed in the slightest. "She doesn't need an invitation if the place is owned by another supernatural being."

"I know the likes of you, don't you think I'd take precautionary measures? No vampire, or werewolf, or even witch, can cross that threshold if, first, I don't allow them in."

The pieces click together. "Oh. That's what the dreamcatcher is for!" Caroline adds with a smile, turning to look up at Klaus and then towards the door, pleased with herself.

Darlene regards her with an interested but wary look. "You're quick. But that still doesn't explain how you managed to cross my door."

Caroline shrugs, starting to feel agitated under the witch's hard and scrutinizing gaze. Instinctively, she moves closer to Klaus, fitting perfectly at his side as his arm wraps completely around her waist, holding her protectively against him.

Eventually, after what feels like a lifetime, Darlene turns on her heels, throwing them a quick–

–"Follow me."–

–before again disappearing behind the curtains.

Caroline hesitates slightly, but Klaus' presence so near is calming and reassuring—he's the biggest bad to ever roam this Earth and _she knows_ that he won't let anything happen to her—and so after a moment they move together around the wooden counter and into the other, hidden room behind the long, red silk.

She's not sure what she actually expected to find, but scattered boxes and piled up books definitely isn't it.

"Uhm, Klaus, are you–" she looks up at him questioningly, not needing to finish her sentence.

"Don't worry, love," he smiles. "Like I said, I promise you she's the best. She's a Bennett, actually," he adds after a moment, looking down at her almost hesitantly.

"Oh."

And _oh_, indeed.

"Is she... ?" she trails off, but he knows what she's asking—_is she related to Bonnie?_

"Probably. They all are, somehow, really. Witches stick together," he says almost jokingly, with a light chuckle. "Or they used to, anyway."

Nodding, Caroline refocuses her attention on Darlene, who's attentively scanning through an old-looking book propped up on a dark, wooden lectern right in the middle of the room.

"What is she even looking for?" she whispers, leaning more towards Klaus.

"Unbinding spells," Darlene's deep voice answers her, instead of Klaus' familiar tone, making Caroline jump slightly.

The witch raises her head for a second, a smirk on her lips. "I'm a witch, not deaf."

Caroline scowls, hastily crossing her arms over her chest as she always does when she's feeling offended. "To unbind what?"

"You and the hybrid," she answers matter-of-factly with a deep sigh. "The fact that you... exchanged blood, in a compromising position,"—Caroline flushes deep red in less than an instant at the words—"obviously tethered you two together somehow."

Clearing her throat and fighting off the embarrassment (Klaus is grinning widely next to her—_that asshole_), she asks again. "But if it only depends on the–uhm, _blood thing_, shouldn't it all get back to normal on its own? Once the other's blood is out of our system?"

"Technically. I suppose the situation is different for you due to the fact that he's also half wolf. Actual werewolves cannot bite their mates, for obvious reasons. While vampires find biting exhilarating and exciting, especially during sex, for wolves it's nothing more than another weapon. It remains, though, the most efficient marking ritual, and wolves are all about marking their territory... so, mixing the vampire and wolf characteristics is like having someone who's both possessive _and_ has the tools and the possibility to claim what he wants as his own. It's quite effective, I'd say."

There's a small pause, _and then_–

"So, basically, he _claimed_ me?" Caroline asks indignantly, her voice raising a few octaves.

Darlene actually laughs, her eyes still busy reading through her grimoire.

"Kind of. Things such as mates do not really exist, the wolves' procedures are... complicated to explain. But you're a vampire, so we just need to make sure your body can get rid of his blood because, as of now, it's somehow bound to yours. You'll be fine."

Caroline grumbles, looking utterly unconvinced. "I just don't understand why me. I mean, certainly it's something that you had tried before?" she asks, now looking at Klaus.

This time, he's the one tensing, looking a mixture between sheepish and agitated.

"_Right_?" she presses, frowning, and Klaus' apologetic smile is enough of an answer for her.

"Ugh, _seriously_?" she cries out, dramatically widening her arms at her sides with a scolding look on her face.

In all honesty, she's trying really, _really hard_ not to think at how _massively important_ this little piece of news is. Bloodsharing between two vampires is much more than what Darlene has said, it's not just 'exhilarating and exciting', it's _intimate_, and special. And not that Caroline didn't know it before as well, _but she thought_–.

It's one thing that Klaus is the only one she's ever even thought of doing something like that with, because—_really_—she's been a vampire for just a little over two years and has been dating a human and then a werewolf slash hybrid-without-the-wolf-venom-cure-in-his-blood during that time. But _Klaus_. He is over a thousand years old, and the fact that she's the only one he has ever bloodshared with has her stomach clenching in both excitement and nerves. She feels set on fire, and like the only thing that could make her feel any better is _him_, _more_ of him, closer, for longer. But she can't have it—_him_. She's done enough damage as it is, already.

"Can you two leave your lovers quarrels for later?" Darlene interrupts her line of thought, her eyebrows arched as she motions for them to gather around the lectern, each one on one side of her.

"I'll need some drops of your blood," she shows them two needles.

Caroline takes one begrudgingly, flinching slightly as she punctures her forefinger. She lets a couple drops of her blood fall onto a small bowl placed in front of them, then looks at Klaus as he does the same regarding her with an amused expression.

"What?" she snaps, defensively.

"Nothing, love," he smirks teasingly. "But I have to say, you're quite the constant surprise—a vampire squeamish at the sight of her own blood?"

She glares at him, then turns towards Darlene, who's pouring some other purple liquid down with their blood.

"What's that?"

"Essence of hydrangeas. It's a symbol of endurance, and it will make sure your two bloods don't mix together during the spell so that we can unbind them inside of your bodies, as well."

"Will it also make the bites disappear?"

"Of course. It's all connected, darling. Like I said, the bite is a sign of ownership, it depends on the presence of his blood inside your system and vice versa; it will only be there as long as his blood is."

"But why? I mean, when two normal vampires bite each other, don't the marks just disappear _right_ after? So shouldn't ours disappear as soon as we're not connected anymore?"

Darlene sighs. "Yes, but, right now, your blood and his blood are morphing together. It's like it's only _one_ type of blood, instead of two. That's also why you were able to enter the shop regardless of my protection spell, because it's based on blood and it allowed _his_ blood inside, which at the moment is the very same as yours. Once we unbind you, you'll be able to cleanse yourself of his blood and he will do the same with yours. It's not something I had ever seen before, so maybe it might take a few hours for the bites to disappear instead of only a couple of seconds, but they most definitely will."

The witch's tone rings with finality, and, casting one last wary look towards Klaus, Caroline eventually nods, a somewhat dejected sigh escaping her lips. She knows that there's nothing that either of them can do at the moment except for trusting Darlene, anyway, so might as well get on with it as quickly as they possibly can.

Taking a deep breath, Darlene closes her eyes, taking Caroline's hand in one of hers and Klaus' in the others.

"Do we–?"

"Yes. I'm going to need to dig in some of your energy for this spell," Darlene explains before Caroline can finish her question. "So, please, take each other's hand."

Although she knows that it's not the right moment to (if there is any right moment _at all_, to feel this way—_any_ way—towards Klaus), she can't help the increasing fluttering of her heart against her ribcage as Klaus encloses her small hand in his. It's like every single nerve of her palm and finger is suddenly vibrating, and she feels a shudder going up her arm and through her whole body at this simplest of touches. Almost instinctively—because it's not even a second after their hands have touched—he laces his fingers in between hers, and it just feels too intimate but also all kinds of right at the same time, which _terrifies_ her.

But she—well, not _really_ her, but _still_—has a spell to focus on right now, and _nothing_ can go wrong.

For good measure (but, _honestly_—mostly because it's the only way that she can think of to not keep on staring at Klaus), she closes her eyes as well, and, after hearing him sighing almost wistfully, she knows that Klaus has done the same.

Finally sensing that everything is in place, Darlene starts chanting.

"_Da mihi virtutem, o spiritus, ut separaret hos duos sanguines et has duas animas. Obsecro, separate hos duos sanguines et has duas animas._"

Caroline winces as the spot on her neck where she knows the bite is starts burning. In that same instant, Klaus slightly squeezes her hand and the gesture reassures her, because she knows that it's his way of letting her know to not get scared or worried because he's feeling it too.

"_Obsecro, separate hos duos sanguines et has duas animas. Separate!_"

Darlene's chanting gets louder and somehow more aggressive, her hands almost crushing theirs as her nails dig into their skin. Caroline clenches her eyes even more strictly shut and grips Klaus' hand tighter in hers as the burning feeling on her neck intensifies.

She wants to ask if something is wrong, because it _definitely_ feels like it is, or simply rip her hand away from Darlene's, but her grasp is too strong and too scorching and she's not sure whether that would actually help or if it would just make matters even worse.

She doesn't have much time to ponder over that anyway, because suddenly all she feels is an intense force propelling her backwards, her hands leaving first Darlene's and then Klaus' grip as her neck literally starts feeling like it's on fire all over and a terrified, pitched scream leaves her lungs, so high that it leaves her throat aching.

A single but roaring cry of pain coming from Klaus mixes with hers, and she opens her eyes to see him leaning against the far wall. Their eyes meet and Caroline unconsciously brings a hand up to her neck, barely holding back her tears as she feels the ever-present patched skin of the bite mark.

Klaus rushes to her in an instant.

"Caroline, are you okay?" he asks, worry evident in his tone and in the frantic way in which he checks over her, looking for possible injuries. She hadn't even noticed, but, apparently, she had fallen to the ground, because—she realizes—she's currently crumpled on the floor with Klaus kneeled in front of her.

Swallowing, she can only manage a small nod, but Klaus picks up on her uncertainty.

"Are you sure?" he asks again, serious, his hands coming up to cup her face, making it impossible for her to avoid his gaze and therefore lie to him.

"I'm okay. I promise."

With a nod, he finally seems to believe her, but he's still cautious and gentle—but if she has to be honest, _when isn't he ever with her?_—as he helps her get up, his arms immediately going around her waist to keep her steady and firmly against him.

Once he's sure that she's okay and able to stay up on her own, though, Klaus quickly flashes towards Darlene, his hand around her throat in an instant as he forcefully slams her against the opposite wall.

"_Klaus!_" Caroline gasps at the unexpected and sudden act of violence, immediately taking an hesitant step forward.

"What did you do?" Klaus snarls at the witch, who's now struggling to breathe. From Darlene's previous confidence and apparent lack of fear towards Klaus, Caroline doesn't doubt that she could have easily taken him down, but she had just performed a very strength-consuming spell, which definitely turns the tables in Klaus' favor.

"_No_–_thing_," she barely chokes out, her hands going to Klaus' one around her neck, uselessly trying to pry it away.

"Why don't I believe you?" he growls again, his grip tightening as his eyes menacingly flash yellow, his fangs elongating behind his lips.

"I—didn't do–didn't do anything," she repeats between harsh taken breaths, gasping for air. "There was something blocking me."

His eyes go thinner, a sharp stare appearing on his face. After a very long moment, he releases Darlene's neck, urging her to explain. "What do you mean?"

The witch massages her neck, warily walking around him back towards her still open grimoire.

"I'm not sure. I just couldn't dig into enough power to see the spell through."

"Why?" Caroline is the one to ask this time, a worried frown taking over her soft features.

"I'm not sure. At first I thought it might be the spirits but blood bonds are rare and dangerous, even they know that that's too much of a gamble."

"Wait—_what_? Dangerous?" Caroline shrieks with wide eyes. "You said we would be fine. That _I_ would be fine."

"Because I thought that I would be able to unbind you. And not really dangerous, just... weird, unpredictable."

"Define _unpredictable_?" Caroline presses in a mixture of worry and annoyance.

Darlene sighs. "Look, I don't know. I've never dealt with any. And even if I had, yours is different, stronger."

"So what should we do?" Caroline asks hopelessly after a long pause, looking behind Darlene towards Klaus, who has a severe look on his face.

It's again Darlene who answers, however. "I don't want you to freak out, because, honestly, you seem like a girl who freaks out pretty easily,"—Caroline glares at her—"but I don't like this so I'll look into it the best I can. But it might take some time," she finishes, casting a wary look towards Klaus, because, if there is anything that he hates above everything else (and, let's be honest, there are way too many things that he hates, period) is being kept waiting.

The hybrid's jaw clenches in barely contained anger at the witch's failure, mixed with a maybe slightly irrational worry that—_he knows_—comes from the fact that he's not the only one involved in this situation. _No_. It potentially puts Caroline—_his_ Caroline—at risk too, and he can't stand it. Because there are too many people he has loved and lost for his own foolishness already–

–"_Will you bring me to see the wolves, Nik?"_—_"Henrik... it's dangerous."_—_"Please, Nik."_

"_Whatever do you mean, Kol?"__—__"Don't pretend like you're not in on it. Your obsession to find the cure clearly trumps any sibling loyalty you once felt."_–

–and he _won't_ add Caroline to that list, he just won't. He can't let that happen, not again. He's not willing to lose her, not ever. Waiting, he will do, but he couldn't be able to live another second knowing that her light had been permanently extinguished from this world, even more so if it were for something that he felt so hugely responsible for.

He takes a step forward towards Darlene.

"Perhaps, all you need is some motivation," he says with a grin as sharp as the blade of a knife but much more threatening. "Lovely young girl who greeted us earlier."

"Klaus–" Caroline hesitates in a low voice.

"Don't you _dare_ threaten her, hybrid," Darlene warns him, pure hatred in her cold eyes. "Not if you want my help."

Klaus laughs, but it's dry and terrifying. "I don't think you're in any position to make demands, _witch_."

"Maybe not. But you know you won't find a more powerful witch than me, and I won't work through fear and blackmail," Darlene bravely stands her ground, looking him straight in the eyes.

There's a long pause, during which Caroline's heart feels like it's going to explode out of her chest at any moment because of the tension settling in the room, but, finally, Klaus smirks again.

"Very well, then. But you better find a solution to this, or failing me will be the last thing you will do before watching me kill your girl and then beg me to end your miserable life as well."

With no other words, Klaus struts towards Caroline, taking her hand in his and pulling her with him as he leaves.

**:**

**:**

"Are we going to talk about it _at all_?" Caroline snaps, eventually, unable to take the silent treatment any longer.

They have been driving in _utter_ silence—and it's _dreadful_, seriously, like, the worst experience of Caroline's life, which is saying a lot because she has _died_, for Pete's sake, and that's not a pretty experience, now, is it?—for three hours now and there are only so many black cars they drive by that Caroline can count to occupy her time before she goes completely crazy.

"There's nothing we have to talk about, Caroline," he answers curtly, but she still notices the way his hands tighten around the steering wheel in anger, and how he uses her name instead of the usual term of endearment he reserves for her. It makes her dead heart drop a little inside her chest. It shouldn't, but it does.

She scoffs. "Oh, really? What about the fact that you basically _chained_ me to you? You must be over the moon, since that's what you've been trying to do for the past two years anyway."

Klaus grinds his teeth together in frustration. "_I_ didn't do anything. It takes two to tango, love," he taunts her.

"But it's _your_ fault we ended up in this predicament!"

"Oh, is it? Enlighten me, please."

"_Yes_, it _is_. Because you're a–," she huffs. "A hybrid. Part wolf and whatever. Didn't you hear what Darlene said?"

He lets out a dry chuckle, staring ahead of him at the road with emotionless eyes. "I've heard what the witch said quite clearly, love. It's all my fault because I'm a _freak of nature_, I apologize for the inconvenience."

Caroline sighs, closing her eyes for a moment. "That's not what I meant."

She feels—not quite _sorry_—but _something_, nonetheless. Towards Klaus. To this day, she still doesn't know much about how he had been as a human, back in the days, before everything got too complicated and turned him into the person that he is today, apart from what Elena had told her years ago about his family. But, whether his methods had been right or wrong (definitely _wrong_), all that he has ever tried to do since arriving in Mystic Falls had simply been surrounding himself of people that he could trust and that wouldn't leave him, which was something that she could relate to, on some, less twisted, level. All of her life, she has always been the backup, the second choice, that one girl everybody would grow tired of eventually, once they had found someone better to spend their time with. And it didn't matter how many committees she was the head of, or how many parties she threw, or how many younger girls followed her around wishing to enter her good graces to be part of the cheerleading squad—she was still, essentially, _alone_. _Nobody_—not her dad, not Matt, not Tyler—ever stuck around. Because she was just _too_ high-maintenance, or _too_ loud, or _too_ demanding. Everybody always seemed to be able to move on from her without a second thought, while she was left picking up the pieces of her life, time after time, trying to put everything back together, even if, every time, there was one more piece missing that she would never get back.

—"_Do you ever feel like... there's not a person in the world, who loves you_?"—

"That's not what I meant," she repeats, more forcefully this time. "But–I mean, you said you had never... _you know_, before."

"Bloodshared?" he says for her, a small, smug smile making its way to his lips despite everything. "I hadn't. And, for the record, I didn't just mean after I finally became a hybrid. I meant, _ever_."

He doesn't know why he says that, when, really, he could have lied about it (the bond was created only because he's part werewolf now, after all), to maintain some of his dignity, but he wanted her to _know_, just how much she means—how much he _loves_ her, he means—to him.

"Oh," Caroline nods, almost absentmindedly, biting down on her bottom lip. "Then why did you..." she trails off.

Klaus sighs. "Do you really have to ask?"

"Since it put me in danger," she replies a bit too angrily, and, again, his hold on the steering wheel tightens until his hands are almost shaking and his knuckles become white.

"I mean, so much for caring about me, mmh? Your bite is fatal to me, but you just did it," she snaps.

"If I recall correctly, love, you _encouraged_ me to bite you. You _wanted_ it," he reminds her with a snarl. He knows that she's partly right, because, _hell_, he _does blame_ himself, but he won't have her put it like he had just taken advantage of her and forced her into it, because it's _far_ from the truth, and they both know it.

"Because I thought you knew what you were doing!" she retorts angrily, raising her voice inside the small space of the car that they're confined into.

"So what, you're _angry_ at me?" he mocks, chuckling darkly.

"And disappointed."

Klaus' jaw ticks dangerously and his teeth grind together again, fury evident in his tense stance.

"You should be _flattered_," he snarls, and her answering scoff only fuels his anger even more, making him say things he's not sure he means to—he has bared his heart to her enough times, already—before he can actually even think about it.

"You know what bloodsharing means for vampires, how _intimate_ it is, and _yet_," he laughs dryly, hurt. "Instead of making you realize how important you must be to me, you just _accuse_ me, because it's something that I've only ever wanted to do with you? Is there _anything_ right that I could ever do in your eyes, Caroline?" he asks, his voice going slightly softer, lower, making her heart clench at how _genuine_ and vulnerable he sounds. "Because if you're just hell-bent on hating me forever, then, please, tell me now."

There's a long pause, during which Klaus just awaits for the rejection to come, instead Caroline's face is a mask of indifference, her arms folded across her chest and eyes set on the road in front of them.

Finally, she speaks.

"Pull over."

"What?"

"Pull over."

"Caroline, I'm not leaving you here."—he doesn't care if this is her decision, and she finally just realized that she wants to stay as far away from him as she possibly can for the rest of her life, he's not just going to leave her alone in the middle of nowhere, vampire or not.

"I said—_pull over_!" she almost screams it this time, looking at him with a determined glint in her eyes. Eventually, he sighs and does as she asks.

He has less than a second to briefly close his eyes and take a deep breath, opening his mouth to convince her, and _then_—Caroline is on him in an instant, straddling him, her mouth crashing down onto his, making him gasp. She takes advantage of that and quickly pushes her tongue past his lips, rolling it against his teeth before meeting it with his own, her fingers gripping at the light curls at the nape of his neck to angle his head and make the kiss as deep as she can. Instinctively, Klaus brings his hands on her hips, steadying her as she moves her hips against his, stealing a guttural groan from his throat.

With a gasp, he draws back, but Caroline doesn't relent, nibbling at his jaw and then down his neck, biting with her human teeth.

"_Caroline_–" he pants, almost unconsciously bending his neck to the side to give her a better access. "You don't really want this."

He's not even sure why he says it—because Lord knows _he_ wants it—but he knows that she's still partly mad at him and too worried about their current problematic situation to be thinking clearly right now. They have had enough angry sex, and he wants _more_ from her.

"Believe me,_ I do_," she answers against his skin with a raspy voice that has him harden even more.

She must sense that he's about to protest once more so she adds—"I want _you_"—and again covers his mouth with her own, her hands going to his belt and quickly undoing it, pulling at his jeans. It's all Klaus can do to slightly lift his hips so that she can push them down, together with his boxers.

With a groan, he closes his eyes and surrenders, helpless against her–

–and when isn't he, after all? What is he, if not constantly at her mercy?

She takes a firm hold of his already very erect member, teasing him as she expertly fingers its tip.

"_Caroline_–" he says, again, but this time it's a warning.

Laughing, albeit obviously rather breathlessly, she makes quick work of her leggings, pushing them down her legs the necessary, her panties quickly joining them.

Klaus circles her waist with one arm, possessively pulling her flush against him, his other hand losing itself in her hair, gently caressing her neck and pressing her head towards his as he retakes her lips, their tongues meeting once again just as she suddenly sinks herself down onto him, eliciting the umpteenth contented groan from the hybrid.

She sets a demanding pace, lifting her hips up away from his and then back down again, time after time after time, the resounding slap of their skins coming together the only noise, mixed with their pants and moans, inside the small, confined space of the car, parked in the dark on the side of a deserted road.

It gets too much too quickly, so she disconnects their lips with a strangled sob, hiding her face into his neck as her arms circle around it to bring him closer. In response, Klaus rids her of her sweater and then wraps both of his arms around her small waist, his hands immediately going underneath her tank top to meet the delightful warmth of her skin against his. He picks up the tempo, as well, bringing his hips up into hers with force and purpose.

After a few more thrusts, she comes with his name on her lips, keeping on frantically gyrating her hips against his to coax and ride out his own, sweet release, which arrives a moment later.

They stay like that, wrapped up into each other, for a few minutes, both breathless, panting against the other's heated skin.

After a while, Caroline finally raises her head and then her hips, just slightly, looking almost shy as she leans towards her seat again, but Klaus is having none of that.

Instead, he tightens his hold on her and brings her back into him, smirking. "Don't you think I'm done with you yet, sweetheart."

With a flick of his wrist, he pushes the passenger seat all the way down and then swiftly but graciously rolls them over onto it, his already again growing, hardening length never leaving the wet warmth of her sheath.

She wraps her legs around him, effortlessly, her ankles linking together as the heels of her feet dig into his back.

Klaus takes a moment to gently caress down her nose with is own, their gazes locking together, _burning_, digging through until they reach the other's bared soul.

Unexpectedly, he raises to his knees above her, her legs sliding down around his ass, and then gives a deep, hard thrust, immediately making Caroline cry out in sheer pleasure at the sensation of him so deep and big inside of her and his body completely nestled between her parted thighs. He stays like that for a long moment, watching her panting with want beneath him, her eyes closed and her skin flushed from her cleavage all the way up to her cheeks. Feeling a rush of possessiveness spread through his whole body, he withdraws all the way out of her until only the tip of his member is still lingering at her entrance. She tries to raise her hips up against his to take him in again, but he roughly pins her hips down with his hands, taking one more second to admire her before slamming all the way into her again.

Wanting to see all of her, he quickly tears off her top, ripping it in the middle, and then her bra as his hands immediately go to her now bared, plump breasts. He lays down on top of her again, setting a punishing pace—a hard pinch on her nipples for every harsh word that she has ever screamed at him, a thrust for every time she has made him feel used or rejected.

"_Kla_–" she croaks out, breathlessly, his name remaining stuck in her throat.

He places a hand on the supple, milky white skin of her right thigh, bringing her leg up, bent atop of his shoulder, the new position allowing him to go even deeper inside of her.

"_Please_," she begs, and seeing her body trashing wildly beneath _his_ makes him growl and grow even larger inside the wet confines of her pulsing heat.

He shakes his head, bringing his free hand to the side of her face, his thumb caressing her closed eyelids, successfully coaxing her into opening her eyes, hooded with lust.

"Tell me that you don't hate me, Caroline," he grinds out, his stare trapping hers as he pushes deeply inside of her to make his point.

Pushing his pelvis into hers hotly and desperately, but without any actual movement, he repeats, demandingly—"_Tell me_."—because he _needs_ to hear it, he needs to know that there's still hope for them.

There's a long moment before she surrenders, when all they can hear is the breath leaving their lungs in pants, and the frantic beating of their dead hearts inside their chests. It's weird, because they feel much more connected than the simple joining of their bodies, for the first time since they have first shared blood, and they wonder if that's it—the forming, strengthening bond that the witch had meant.

"I don't hate you," she finally admits with a moan as he picks up the tempo again, finally giving into her needs—_their_ needs—his hand finding her swollen clit and playing with the electrified bundle of nerves on ready alert there.

They're both nuzzling against the other's neck, and the call for blood is strong—stronger, _too much_ stronger, than it should be—but, somehow, they resist, instead focusing on the pressure of their body coming together thrust after thrust.

Finally, with a relieved cry, Caroline comes, sucking on his neck with her blunt teeth and certainly leaving a noticeable mark there. Klaus lets go as well after a few more strokes, groaning against her burning skin.

He slightly lifts his hips to withdraw from her, but still remains lying above her body, leaving a trail of tender kisses from her jaw to her temple, their legs tangling together and her arms sliding around his neck to keep him pressed against her.

There's an intimacy there that has been missing in both of their previous times together, but instead of feeling scary it feels _safe_, which is, in itself, even more frightening for both of them. Too many problems are unresolved between them, questions pending over their heads, the possible dangers of their blood bond.

It seems that they're both having the same thoughts, because they tilts their heads towards each other at the same time, their eyes locking together with a pull stronger than gravity.

"We should probably find some food. It's late and we still have a lot of road ahead," Klaus speaks in a low voice, reluctantly breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

Caroline nods slowly, mindlessly, her gaze dancing between his eyes and his lips. Using her arms, still wrapped around his neck, she brings him down to her again and kisses him, slowly and wetly.

Immediately, Klaus feels himself stir again, answering her kisses as he pushes his tongue between her parted lips.

Lazily, she wraps her legs around him more tightly, whispering as she feels him again hard against her belly—"Later."


	5. Chapter 5

"**It was supposed to be a one-time thing, a mistake. But when you're a vampire, life is blood, and blood binds."**

* * *

**A/N: Heyyyy! Yes, your eyes are not deceiving you, this is an actual second update in one single week. I'm too awesome, I know. Eheh.**

**This is, again, un-beta'ed because I really wanted to be able to publish it today as a thank you for your constant reviews, for every favorite, every follow, and even simply for reading this story and accompanying me through this amazing journey. The next chapters will, however, come a bit slower again because I don't really like not having them beta'ed, and, like I already wrote the other time, I unfortunately have exams approaching. But since it's the holidays, I wanted to give you a little something more than usually.  
**

**A huge shout out to my fellow friends of the Klarogang Castle on Skype (especially Jackie), for their help, inputs and support, above all.**

**Enjoy,**

**Giulia.**

* * *

When Elena and Bonnie open the door to their dorm room, they find her sitting on the floor next to their—_ahem_, more like _her_ (it was, after all, a gift from Klaus)—mini fridge, her legs crossed in front of her and a half consumed blood bag in hand, three already empty lying at her side.

"_Caroline_!" Elena exclaims, although it comes out more as a question, two matching, confused frowns on both of her friends' faces.

Honestly, deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression aside, she can't really blame them.

Truth to be told, the day before, she hadn't exactly thought about the _actual_ amount of time it would have taken her and Klaus to drive all the way to Montgomery _and_ back—Math had never been her favorite subject, _sue her_—which, added to the hour they spent with Darlene and the other three (or _four_) they spent engaged in _other activities_, amounted to around more than twenty-four hours, a whole day. A whole day without blood, at that.

So, as soon as Klaus had dropped her off at her campus—both ignoring the feeling of being ripped in two as the other left the best that they could—she ran to her room, relieved to find that Elena and Bonnie had already left for their first class of the day. She took a quick shower, which didn't help her calm her nerves at all, and then finally went through her and Elena's blood bags stash.

Usually, Caroline consumed no more than two blood bags a day, maybe three if she was really stressed or angry for some reason, but the day before she had completely forgotten her morning one or to bring any along with her for the small trip with Klaus, so she wasn't _too_ surprised when she found herself quickly emptying two in the matter of a few seconds and then still needing more, being at her fourth when Elena and Bonnie finally arrived. Not to mention that the bite marks situation—with its potential, attached problems—was really starting to take a toll on her, and so was all the sneaking around with Klaus, which, admittedly, was what she was currently doing, there was no point in denying it (at least to herself).

"Hey..." she hesitates, bringing the open spout of her current blood bag back to her lips almost mindlessly.

"Are you okay?" Elena asks her with furrowed eyebrows as Bonnie closes the door behind the both of them. "We sent you at least a dozen texts, and also tried to call you."

She gulps, brushing her still slightly wet hair to the side of her neck to hide the bared bite mark that she forgot to cover up in her haste to get something to drink.

"Yeah," she answers, shaking her head. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. But we were worried. Where did you sleep last night? Did you just arrive?"

She somehow resists the urge to roll her eyes at their far too prying parental dynamic, because, _honestly_, she knows that she would act the exact same way if she were in their shoes and one of them had disappeared on her for a whole day and a whole night without a single word.

"I know, I'm really sorry, girls," she repeats with a genuinely apologetic look on her face, although she doesn't feel sorry about the lack of communication on her part as much as she does about the fact that she's about to feed them a very well organized lie that she had a whole journey back home to think of (and also set up, thanks to a small stop at the grocery store—alone, of course, God forbid the _mighty Klaus Mikaelson_ did something as trivial as food shopping—on their way to Whitmore).

"I did some mostly useless shopping—toiletries, _human_ food," she grins as Bonnie glares at her jokingly. "And then I wasn't sure if you had found Elena, and I also really missed my mum, so I sort of went back to Mystic Falls."

Bonnie immediately gasps. "God, I'm so sorry, Care!" she apologizes as her eyes widen in realization. "It totally slipped my mind! I should have texted you. I'm such a terrible friend."

Caroline laughs. "Don't worry, really. Like I said, I also wanted to visit my mum, which turned out to be a letdown, as she had a full day shift," she complains with an easy lie, reassuring Bonnie with a small wave of her hand. "But I was too tired so I crashed there. And also had no blood the whole day, _obviously_," she points to the blood bag in her hand, rolling her eyes at her own forgetfulness (and that was genuine, at least).

"Where were _you_, by the way?" she picks up the conversation again after a short pause, eyeing Elena suspiciously. "I thought I would find you at the Boarding House with Damon?"

Immediately, Elena adverts her gaze, shifting uncomfortably on her feet.

"Miss Elena," Bonnie teases, throwing an arm around her friend's shoulders. "Slept in Damon's car last night. _With_ Damon."

"Oh my God, _what_? Elena Marie Gilbert, what a slut!" Caroline gasps jokingly, and the three of them start laughing together, Elena and Bonnie quickly joining her in a circle on the floor as the former starts telling all about her night with Damon and gladly consumes a blood bag herself as Caroline starts a fifth as discretely as she can, feeling like her hunger just gets stronger with every gulp instead of being quenched like it's supposed to.

She listens to her friend as attentively as she can, biting down on her bottom lip to prevent a satisfied grin to take over her face as she gives herself a mental pat on the back for her convincing story and the way she successfully turned the attention away from her and her growing list of excuses (for the time being, at least). No more stuttering, poor made-up stories from her—_no, Sir_—she's officially a top class liar–

–_high five for you, Caroline Forbes!_–

–although she probably shouldn't be gloating about it, now, should she?

They chat and gossip some more, thankful for the shared free period, but it can only last so long.

Caroline finally stands up on her feet, brushing off her red skinny jeans.

"I should really go, girls. I have Diction in a few, and I've skipped enough classes as it is lately."

Bonnie laughs wholeheartedly. "Tell me how it goes. The teacher must hate you, you talk a mile a minute."

With a groan, the blonde tips her head back dramatically. "_She does_! But it's mutual, believe me. Like, it's not my fault I'm a fast thinker!"

Elena and Bonnie share a sardonic look and shake their heads.

Caroline pulls on her favorite denim jacket, popping up its collar to discretely cover her bite mark the best that she can (she'll apply some make-up in the common bathrooms near her classroom later, away from Elena and Bonnie). While she starts looking for the right books on her desk, Elena stands up as well.

"I'll come with. I have English, I think," she ponders out loud, making the other two girls laugh.

Caroline arches a skeptical eyebrow at her. "We have that class together, E. So I doubt it."

"Darn," she huffs. "Well, I'm still sure I have something," she adds, sounding pensive and unsure.

"Here," Caroline thrusts a small, transparent folder into her friend's hands, rolling her eyes. "It has the schedules of the three of us, so we always know when the others are free."

Elena gives her a very appreciative and also thankful look.

"You're the best, Care."

"Don't I know it!"

"So... it says I have French, and that Bonnie has English. See? Somebody _does_ have English," she announces proudly.

"It sucks that we can't have it together because Bonnie enrolled late," she pouts.

The mentioned girl rolls her eyes. "I was _dead_, Elena."

Caroline pipes up again then, finally ready with her books in one hand and her recorder in the other. "I'm all set, shall we go?"

Elena nods, picking up her own notebook and her shoulder bag from her bed as she follows the blonde towards the door.

"Bon, aren't you coming?" Caroline asks with a slight frown, turning back to look at the third girl, still sitting down on the floor.

She opens her mouth but seems to hesitate. "In a bit," she doesn't elaborate, which only makes the other two girl look at her even more suspiciously.

"Alright, whatever you say. See you later," Caroline concedes after a brief, silent pause, opening the door and leaving the room with Elena trailing behind her. The latter waves Bonnie goodbye and then closes the door.

Releasing a huge sigh, Bonnie finally picks herself up from the floor, looking around the room with uncertainty.

Before Elena had eventually showed up the day before, she had spent her whole day flipping through her grimoire and some other spell books in her possession, Esther's threat still ringing loud and clear in her mind.

She knows what she has to do. Well, she _wants_ to believe that she does, at least. But she needs to check her new discoveries with Esther before proceeding any further, which makes her anxious.

Feeling rather silly, she enters the room's bathroom, firmly locking the door behind her for precaution, and tentatively calls out the original witch's name—that's the only place she has encountered Esther since coming back from the other side, after all, so she supposes that it's worth a try.

Nothing happens.

With a gulp, she turns so that she now completely faces the mirror and closes her eyes tight, trying a different approach.

"_Ego voco te, Esther._"

Her voice is trembling, the total opposite of secure as she utters the words. She's never done this before, not dipping exclusively in her own powers, and certainly not to summon someone as evil as she knows Esther is—ideas of restoring the so-called _balance_ be damned—but she just keeps repeating to herself that she had no other choice than this, and that it will all work itself out in the end. It _has to_.

Huffing, she gets rather frustrated, because _she knows_ that Esther must be watching her somehow—or how could have she shown herself to her in the bathroom the first time?—so _why_ is she taking so long to appear when she actually needs her? She doesn't have much time. Neither of them do.

"_Bonnie_."

Barely suppressing a gasp, she finally opens her eyes, apprehensive.

"I suppose there is a reason why you called me," Esther states with cold eyes, without unnecessary beating around the bush.

Bonnie nods tentatively, fidgeting in her spot. "Yes. The next opposition surge is going to be around the second week of December. I can't have the exact day until we're nearer, but–"

"That will do for now," Esther interrupts her with a wistful look. "That gives us two months at the most. It's not much, you have a lot to do."

"I know. We need your children's blood, but how am I supposed to get close enough to them to get it?"

Esther regards her somberly. "There will be several problems along the way, you need to find your own solutions. You have a _task_," she reminds her dangerously.

"And I have every intention of seeing it through," she replies, quickly. "But I can't exactly just ask them for a sample of their blood. They wouldn't comply and they'd get suspicious, or worse, they'd kill me."

There's a brief pause that however feels way too long and way too silent for Bonnie, waiting with wide, fearful eyes.

"I believe to understand you already thought of something else. Then, tell me."

Bonnie releases a small sigh of relief. "Let me tell my friends. They will help me," she pleads, hurriedly, before the other witch can interrupt her.

Esther's stare becomes, if possible, even colder. "You made a deal, darling. And telling your friends wasn't part of it. They _can't_ know."

"I know, just–," she pauses, taking a deep breath. "Just Stefan and Damon. They want to get rid of Klaus more than anything else, and they won't tell anybody if they believe it would put Elena in danger."

Her eyes are pleading, but pleading the Devil never saved anyone.

"_Please_. I won't be able to do it without them."

"What can they do to help you? They tried to take down my children enough times already, and they never succeeded."

"_I know_. But this time is different, we won't fail, we can't."

"You're right, _we can't_," Esther repeats, her tone threatening.

After a pause, though, the original witch finally relents, still warning her. "If _anybody_ else were to find out, you would be paying dreadful consequences, dear."

Bonnie nods. "Nobody will," she promises confidently.

"Do what you need to do, then."

This time, when the whole mirror flashes blood red, Bonnie doesn't flinch. Instead, she gives a huge sigh of relief and closes her eyes for a second.

As she unlocks the door and exits the bathroom, she's already opening a new text for Stefan—

—_I need your help. Will talk tomorrow at the Boarding House, make sure Damon is there too. Elena can't know or she'll be in danger_.

**:**

**:**

Caroline is walking down the hallway with a confident step and a beaming smile on her face. It's Friday—which, in itself, is already a huge relief—and she's just finished her last class of the day, so she wagers that it's a pretty good time to feel great about herself, mostly because she can't help but replay in her mind last night's activities with Klaus in the car. The mere thought has wetness seep through her panties, but she can't bring herself to be even remotely uncomfortable about it, and it's somehow empowering. Because sex with Klaus makes her feel like a _woman_, and not like a simple girl anymore, and she refuses to be ashamed of that. Sure, there _are_ aspects of it that she knows she should feel terribly ashamed of—like the fact that he's _Klaus_, in the first place—but it's fun, and it's reckless, which is so unlike her that she just can't walk away from it. She knows that there's more to it that she's willing to acknowledge yet, _but_—baby steps, right? The bite marks situation obviously still makes her rather uneasy, and she has no intention of trying to figure out her whole life's dynamic with that danger looming over their heads, _thank you_.

Come to think about potentially life-threatening problems, she had totally forgotten about the whole '_Bonnie and Esther becoming dead BFFs on the other side_' situation. Elena hadn't spoken a word about it since after she had first told her, but she hadn't exactly been around lately so, _technically_, anything could have happened in the mean time that she's not yet aware of.

She groans, because, _hey_, she doesn't like–

–actually, _scratch that_–

–she _hates_ not being in the loop about it. And no—_nope_—it's _not_ because she's worried that they might actually find something to bring down Klaus once and for all, okay? That's _ridiculous_. She doesn't care. The Mikaelson family could be rotting away in a pitch right this moment and she would just throw a victory party for it, gladly dancing on their freaking graves. _Yup_.

Suddenly, her phone vibrates in her pocket, alerting her of a new text.

_-Elena: Damon ditched me for the whole weekend :( Movie night?_

Caroline affectionately rolls her eyes at her friend, a smile playing on her lips.

_-Me: I see how it is, only need me when the boyfriend's unavailable, do you? ;P_

_-Elena: Obviously! But I'm getting Japanese right now, sooooo... forgive me?_

She lets out a small laugh.

_-Me: Mmh... depends on what you mean by Japanese?_

_-Elena: Soba noodles for the best friend, of course ;)_

_-Me: You know me too well! Movie night, it is!_

_-Elena: Ahah, see you back at the dorm in 10?_

_-Me: Yup. But we're watching A Cinderella Story!_

_-Elena: Wouldn't have wanted it any other way ;)_

As Caroline finishes reading the last text, she's finally in front of their dorm room, but she doesn't have a chance to even look for her key as the door suddenly flies open.

A distressed looking Bonnie greets her on the other side.

"_Caroline!_"

"_Bonnie!_" she exclaims back with the same high-pitched tone and slightly crazed eyes.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to Mystic Falls. For the weekend," the witch answers, mindlessly playing with the handle of the door, above which she's still resting her right hand.

Caroline frowns, "Oh. Does Elena know?"

"Uhm, no. I didn't have the chance to tell her. Can you do it?"

"Sure," she quickly agrees, shaking her head slightly as if to shake off her daze at Bonnie's odd, fidgeting behavior.

There's a small pause.

"I just want to spend some time with Jeremy."

Caroline's features soften immediately. "Of course. I'll tell her you said bye, and we'll see you on Monday?"

Bonnie nods with a hesitant smile, finally exiting the room as Caroline moves to the side, closing the door behind her after a small wave from her friend.

With a last sigh, she finally, happily drops her books on her desk and rids herself of her jacket.

After refreshing herself up in the bathroom, she tries to tidy up the room the best that she can, adjusting a couple of pillows on the floor for her and Elena to sit on as they eat and watch the movie.

Thinking about food quickly makes her starving for real, _vampire_, nourishment, so she quickly pours a couple of blood bags in two glasses, one for her and the other for Elena. As she wantonly eyes the red liquid, the back of her throat burns uncomfortably, and she feels like she won't be able to wait even just one more second before–

"Hey!"

She turns to see a smiling Elena closing the door behind her, satchel thrown over her shoulder and plastic bag in hand.

"Hola, stranger," Caroline winks, earning herself an amused look from her best friend.

"Shouldn't _I_ be the one talking fancy languages?"

The blonde shrugs.

"You're lacking, somebody's gotta put you in your place."

Elena hums skeptically, shaking her head. "Start the movie. I'll wash my hands and be right back."

Caroline does as told, getting the DVD from her personal collection—a few favorites that she's brought over from Mystical Falls—and turning on their flat screen while Elena exits the bathroom and busies herself getting them some dishes and the necessary cutlery to eat.

Finally, both girls sit down on the comfortable pillows Caroline had prepared for them on the floor, their backs resting against Elena's bed in the middle of the room.

Caroline presses play and skips through the menu as Elena suddenly frowns, looking around the room.

"Where's Bonnie?"

"Mystic Falls."

Elena groans. "So much for my amazingly planned girls' weekend."

"Hey!" Caroline lightly elbows her in the ribs. "What am I, chopped liver?"

The brunette gives her a stern look. "You know what I mean."

She rolls her eyes, refocusing her attention on the screen in front of her. "She just missed Jeremy."

Elena frowns, her eyebrows furrowing together. "They got back together?"

"They didn't?" Caroline asks back, just as confused.

"Uhm, no."

"Well, maybe they just had some things to talk about?" Caroline supplies with a tentative shrug.

That seems to ease Elena's worries. "I guess," she concedes with a deep sigh. "It's not that I don't want them to be happy, but sometimes it's still weird to think about them together like _that_," she cringes slightly.

Caroline laughs. "The best friend and the baby sibling—world's oldest hidden affair."

Elena scowls at her, stealing the remote away from her hands and finally starting the movie, albeit not able to completely stifle a small chuckle.

"Shut up!"

**:**

**:**

It's early Saturday afternoon and Klaus is adding some final touches to one of his latest paintings when his phone rings among the almost eerie silence of the Mikaelson mansion.

He swiftly wipes his hands on a towel he had previously set near the easel and thanks the imaginary Heavens above–

–like there's _anything_ above him at all–

–that Elijah is currently out of the house for some errand to run when he sees the caller's name on the display.

"Darlene," he sighs heavily, a small but still smug smile forming on his lips as he addresses the witch. "You come bearing good news, I hope."

"_Yes and no."_

Klaus immediately grinds his teeth together, unwilling to lose any time and therefore already feeling frustrated at the witch's cryptic first answer. "Do tell."

"_I've looked into your situation and also called some friends who have dealt with blood bonds before,"_ Darlene sighs on the other line. _"It's uncommon, yes, but it can happen. The fact that you're a hybrid, part wolf, does make the connection deeper though, stronger. And that's because—here's the good part—wolves are mating creatures, and blood bonds are essentially based on what the two people concerned feel towards each other, it's the only way that it can happen."_

Klaus scoffs. "And how is this supposed to be the good part, witch? Don't test my patience."

On the other line, Darlene laughs, a wholehearted, genuine laugh that makes Klaus' blood boil in his veins in profound annoyance.

"_Oh, you tell me. When I say feelings, I mean deep, real feelings, on both parts. And, yes, we've never been on good terms, Klaus, but don't think even for a second that I didn't notice the way you were looking at that girl the other day."_

At the words, a huge lump immediately forms in Klaus' throat, his mind racing at the implications of what Darlene has just told him—their blood bond wouldn't have formed if Caroline hadn't felt something _for_ him, too. And not just something like lust or simple attraction, _no_, something stronger and more important. On some extent, he already suspected that, even long before they had succumbed victims to the high sexual tension coursing between them, but having proof of that, what with all the times Caroline constantly tries to deny any kind of lingering, good feeling towards him, feels better than he could have ever imagined.

It's an _unbelievable_ feeling. Better than anything else he had ever felt during his long, long life. And even if some deeper, somewhat unconscious part of him knows that this feeling, this longing, this _happiness_, spreading all over his body, should scare him, he's unwilling to acknowledge that for the time being. Because this revelation feels too much like a, albeit maybe still minor, win. Like a small step forward towards Caroline. And that's all that he wants at the moment. That's all that he needs. They are both damaged, and lonely, and Caroline has so very much to lose were she to allow herself to be—_really_ be—with him. So he has to fight through his fears and his doubts with all of his might, because _she's worth it_.

His heart still beating wildly inside his ribcage, all the way up to his ears, leaves him dazed, almost confused, for a moment, and he has to shake his head to regain some composure. He knows, though, that a few moments have passed, and that there's no point in denying Darlene's words. He finds that he doesn't really want to, anyway. It's also probably better if the witch knows just how much is at stake here—his are _never_ empty threats, after all.

"What's the bad news, then?" he finally asks, slightly clearing his throat, his hands still trembling as he grips the phone and keeps it pressed to his ear.

Darlene sighs heavily, her teasing mood immediately disappearing. _"I have yet to understand what was blocking me during the spell. The energy I was getting from the two of you should have been enough to see everything through, because even if the bond is stronger so are you. I tried other spells, and this is not about me; neither is it about the spirits."_

"How do you know?"

"_If it had been, they would have had to entirely block my powers for a certain amount of time no shorter than a couple of hours. They are, after all, dead, and they can't perform such precise, focused spells."_

Klaus hums contemplatively. "What do you believe it was, then?"

"_I still can't be sure, but I would say that you have someone very powerful on the other side who doesn't like you much."_

Klaus actually chuckles. "Well, that's not too shocking."

"_I suppose it's not, but it's also not a good situation,"_ Darlene points out in a stern, almost scolding, tone. _"I'll see if I can understand who's fighting the spell on the other side, but be careful."_

"Oh, no need to worry about me, witch," he rolls his eyes with a smirk. "I always am."

"_Well, but this isn't only about you anymore, is it?"_ she reminds him, not giving him the time to reply as she abruptly ends their conversation, the line immediately going dead.

Closing his eyes, Klaus brings the hand not holding the phone to run through his hair in frustration, sighing heavily through his nose. Darlene is right and he damn well knows it himself.

_His enemies aren't only his anymore_.

**:**

**:**

"What about this one?" Elena asks, bringing a dark purple, short, shift dress, lacy flowers embroidered on the front, to her chest, turning towards Caroline to let her friend assess how it could actually look on her.

The blonde cocks her head to the side, not convinced. "Mmh, I wouldn't know. I think that says 'I'm trying to seduce you' a bit too much."

Elena sighs, putting the dress back on the rack together with the others. "Well, that's the point, Care."

"_Yes_, but Damon should sweat it. Which is not going to happen if he's able to sex you up in his mind as soon as he sees you," Caroline states matter-of-factly, pointedly looking at her friend with raised eyebrows.

"Alright. What do you suggest then?"

Caroline looks pensive for a moment, before answering.

"_I say_—we leave this less than mediocre store," she cringes slightly as she looks around with clear distaste. "And look for something that will _really_ make Mister I'm-too-cool-to-spend-the-weekend-with-my-girlfriend lose his mind."

"Mmh, I like how you think," Elena grins. "Where can we go, though?"

"_Duh_, Elena. Victoria's Secret, of course."

Elena frowns. "I don't think I like the crazy glint in your eyes when you say _Victoria's Secret_," she teases with a small laugh.

Caroline rolls her eyes. "Oh, _come on_! Do you know that I have _never_ shopped in there? I refuse to die without having ever left Victoria's Secret with _at least_ one, full bag!"

"Aren't you being a little over-dramatic, now?" Elena arches an eyebrow at her friend. "And there's a reason why we don't usually shop in there. I bought a bra once and it cost like seventy dollars, that shop is crazy expensive and not worth it."

"Of course it's worth it," Caroline disagrees with a small shake of her head. "And we're _vampires_, Elena," she adds, lowering her voice in case anybody else is within hearing distance. "Who don't even feed on people. So I'd say we deserve to take advantage of some of the pros of it, at least. A-k-a, compulsion."

Elena's eyes widen immediately, a look of shock on her face. "Caroline!" she chastises. "We can't."

"Yes, we _can_. We went through hell and back, the both of us, for the past three or so years, _every_ year," she relives, looking seriously into her friend's eyes. "This is a relatively calm period, and I think we deserve to be at least a bit carefree, to have some fun, and to be able to buy a freaking seventy dollars bra if we want to," she says the last bit with a soft laugh, coaxing a smile out of Elena as well.

"Plus," she continues. "Whoever owns Victoria's Secret is probably, like, a billionaire, or something. And we won't take much, just one or two things each. They won't even realize."

There's a small pause, Elena contemplating the idea.

Eventually, the brunette sighs, a grin forming on her face. "Alright, I'm in."

"Yeyyy!" Caroline squeals excitedly, a beaming smile on her lips. "You won't regret it! Actually, I expect a thank you gift basket for how much this is going to improve your sexual life," she winks, taking Elena's hand and quickly dragging her out of the store, leading her through the mass of people hurriedly swirling around the crowded mall.

Once inside the Victoria's Secret store, they happily notice that there aren't but a few customers.

"Who are _you_ buying sexy stuff for, by the way?" Elena asks Caroline as she follows her friend towards the babydolls section.

Caroline's step falters for an instant, and she nervously bites down on her bottom lip, cheeks reddening slightly. "Nobody in particular," she answers vaguely, doing her best not to stutter. "But a girl has to be ready in case _certain occasions_ present themselves."

The brunette slightly furrows her eyebrows together, looking unconvinced. "Mmh, if you say so."

Rolling her eyes, Caroline huffs. "I do. Don't you think you would know if I had anybody in my life that I was having sex with? We sort of live together, 'Lena."

Without giving it too much thought, she picks up a black, embroidered, flyaway babydoll and extends her arm behind her to pass it to Elena.

"Try this on," she basically orders.

Elena hesitates. "Uhm, I'm not sure this is really my style, Care."

Turning towards her best friend, Caroline gives her a very pointed look, hands on her hips in her typical _I-know-better_ pose.

"Elena, do you know how many women Damon must have slept with before you? I mean, he is hundreds of years old and—I'm only saying this once—hot as hell if you haven't noticed, which I'm sure you have. He probably bedded princesses, queens, celebrities... and, although he hasn't cared about any of them the way he does for you, don't you want to make _absolutely_ sure to erase _any_ memory of his past encounters from his mind once and for all?"

Elena sighs. "Alright," she concedes, proceeding to walk towards the changing rooms.

A satisfied smile on her lips, Caroline gladly returns her attention towards the several lacy numbers and sets of provocative lingerie in front of her.

If she has to be completely honest with herself, she knows that all that she has just said to Elena about Damon really is what she herself feels about Klaus. Not that she's ready to admit _it_ (or anything else, really) to him just yet, but she _does feel_ sort of lacking in the sex department if she takes a moment to think about all the surely gorgeous, powerful and much more experienced than her women that he must have slept with during the centuries. Because, while she can't be sure about Damon, there is not a doubt in her mind that Klaus has probably slept with the likes of Grace Kelly, Marilyn Monroe and who knows who else. And, even if she keeps repeating to herself that _she doesn't care_—because what the hell is it to her who he did and did not sleep with, _thank you very much_—she just can't suppress the tiny (okay, maybe not _so_ tiny) part of her that craves to leave him stunned and surprised in front of her, that wants to have him beg for her and make him forget about any other woman he has ever been with before her.

She doesn't want to dwell on the actual meaning of that, since she knows that it will only bring her into waters too deep for her to face just yet, but she can't help that she feels that way. And, since he's insanely possessive of her—with _no reason_ whatsoever, okay?—it's only fair that she extends back some of the same courtesy. Not that she's _possessive_ of him, just–

–_ugh_–

–a bit jealous, alright? There, she admits it. Whatever. Just _a bit_, anyway. And _maybe_. _Sometimes_, not always.

And, _really_, mostly she's only doing this because he acts way too smug about having finally gotten into her pants if you ask her. And she wants to wipe that stupid (_sexy_), satisfied smirk off his face already.

Also, it's not fair that he's almost always the one to be in charge when they're together, playing her body like a piano under his expert fingers and, _ahem_, _other parts_ of his more than well-endowed, satisfying anatomy.

_I'll show you control, big bad hybrid wanna-be_.

She needs something that she can comfortably wear underneath her normal clothes, wanting to catch him by surprise. And she wants it to be red because it's the most fitting color that she can think of for them at the moment–

–red like their passion, red like the blood that courses through their veins binding them together–

–and she _just knows_ that it will make him lose his mind once he sees it on her (if it's up to her, they can try out the whole freaking rainbow eventually, anyway).

Finding something that matches her requests isn't easy at all. Everything looks either too frilly or too slutty, too uncomfortable or too simple.

She's just about to rip all the hair off her head when Elena finally rejoins her.

"For someone who's not trying to impress _anyone in particular_," the brunette teases from behind her. "You're certainly taking a lot of time to decide what to get."

Caroline turns her head, menacingly narrowing her eyes at her friend. "Shopping is a serious business, Elena. And I take it you liked the babydoll I suggested?" she smirks.

"I guess."

Caroline rolls her eyes. "Don't you try and give _me_ the innocent act, Gilbert."

Elena shrugs. "It's just that what you told me convinced me, yes, but it also gave me even more doubts than I had before, to be honest."

"I'm sorry, E, that wasn't my intention," Caroline's features immediately soften apologetically. "You know you're the only one for Damon, Elena, you _have to_. What I meant is that we also need to be a little more adventurous from time to time."

With a nod, Elena strains a smile. "It's okay, I know. I'm sure I'll feel more comfortable once I actually put it on for him. I just feel a bit weird now."

Caroline puts a reassuring hand on her friend's shoulder. "There's no need to."

Elena nods again, looking a bit better. "What are you looking for, anyway? Can I help?"

"Uhm, I don't know," Caroline answers. Quickly, she realizes that being so vague would only make Elena more suspicious though, so she eventually sighs and then continues. "I sort of wanted something red, but nothing looks right."

"Well, if you hadn't chosen for me, I probably wouldn't have considered anything appropriate either," Elena admits, starting to move around the store, intently looking at each piece of so-called _clothing_ (because, _seriously_, a swimsuit would be far less revealing).

"Are you going for a babydoll as well, ooor... ?"

"They look too uncomfortable," Caroline shakes her head.

Elena frowns. "You just made me buy one."

"Well, _yes_, but you have to, you know, surprise Damon in bed and all. I need to be prepared under _normal_ clothes."

Briefly closing her eyes, Elena massages her forehead. "Your thinking process is way too complicated for me, Care."

The blonde sighs. "I know, I'm sorry—control freak here. Just compel the cashier for your stuff and then get us something to drink or eat; I'll join you in no more than ten minutes, I promise."

"Alright. Milkshakes?" Elena suggests with a smile.

"Sounds perfect."

As soon as Elena exits the shop, Caroline immediately feels somewhat relieved and much more relaxed. It probably has to do with the fact that the lingerie she's currently intent on choosing is actually meant for the man who has, after all, killed the brunette's aunt and then her too (technically), so it's no wonder that she feels a lot better doing it alone.

With a sigh, she walks around to check the only section of the store that she hasn't looked at yet, and, immediately, a pleased, beaming smile stretches across her lips.

_Found it_.

Resting on a rack on the side, there's a red, lace and chiffon corset, complete with removable garters and matching panties. It's not too revealing but definitely seductive, the perfect combination of sexy and classy, which is exactly what she was aiming for.

With a grin, she quickly looks for her size and then picks it up to go and try it on in one of the changing rooms, although she already knows that it's going to be nothing if not a perfect fit.

There's a newfound confidence in her step and a mischievous glint in her eyes, and she can't help the goosebumps that rise on her skin at the thought of surprising Klaus with it. The hybrid is definitely in for quite the shock.

_He won't even know what hit him_.


	6. Chapter 6

"**It was supposed to be a one-time thing, a mistake. But when you're a vampire, life is blood, and blood binds."**

* * *

**A/N: Hey there, you all!**

**Like always, thank you so much for every single way in which you show your support of this story, it really means a lot to me. If you'd like to know what the _little item_ (*winks*) that Caroline bought for Klaus looks like, just either go on Google (first result that comes up if you look under 'Images') or directly on the official Victoria's Secret site and look for 'Red Chantilly Lace Merrywidow'. Also, in case you wonder what Darlene and Amia look like, I imagine Kerry Washington for the former and Aimee Teegarden (when she was blonde) for the latter.**

**A million thank you's obviously go to Bethany (MarsterRoo), my wonderful beta-reader, and Nicole (nfinneman on Tumblr) for the new gorgeous cover that she has made for this story.**

**I hope you'll like this chapter,**

**Giulia.**

* * *

"So we have to get a sample of their blood?" Damon asks, attentively looking at the almost empty glass of Scotch that he's twirling around in his right hand.

He has a foot a propped up over the arm of the couch, his leg bent at the knee, while Stefan is currently standing silently on the other side of the room, his hands in his pockets.

"Yes," Bonnie answers with a small, tentative nod, fidgeting in her spot in front of them. "A few drops for every sibling should suffice."

"Every _living_ sibling, I hope you mean," Damon scowls.

Bonnie rolls her eyes, her annoyance towards the older Salvatore's usual snarky attitude clear on her features.

"_Of course_. No need to kill the ones that are already dead," she mocks through gritted teeth, earning herself a slight snarl from the dark-haired vampire.

Before either of them can say any more, Stefan finally steps in.

"Alright, stop. _Both_ of you," he gives Bonnie a pointed look. "We're supposed to work together on this."

Damon scoffs. "Yes, _together_. But _Witchy_, here, just basically asked us to go on a suicide mission."

"It's not a _suicide_ mission, Damon," she scolds.

"Oh yeah?" he interrupts her before she can go any further. "Then why do you need _our_ help for it? Why can't you do it yourself?" he raises his eyebrows, daringly.

"It would be much harder for me to get anywhere near any of them. You can just put up a fake fight with Klaus and you'd already be able to get some of his blood."

Damon chuckles humorlessly, drawing down the last remnants of his drink in one gulp. "Oh—look, Steffy. She has everything planned out for us already."

"Alright," Bonnie huffs. "If you don't want to help me, then–" she starts moving towards the door.

Stefan immediately stretches out an arm in front of him, in a stopping motion.

"No, Bonnie, _please_. We'll help you."

Of course, Damon still doesn't seem to agree.

"_Why_, Stefan? Klaus and his fucked up family left. Why should we go poke the bear? And Elena is a vampire now, he has no use for her anymore."

There's a small pause, Bonnie's eyes hesitantly shifting from one Salvatore brother to the other, trying to understand what they are currently thinking.

Eventually, Stefan sighs. "You're right, Damon, but don't you think Elena would still want to see him punished for all that he did? And I'm not saying that she doesn't enjoy being a vampire now, but Rebekah _did_ take that choice away from her. If we have a chance to get rid of them once and for all, we should take it."

"Whatever you say, Brother," Damon acquiesces with a sigh after a silent pause. "What's the plan, then?"

"The staged fight with Klaus could work; if we're smart about it, we can make it not suspicious. But we should wait some time between taunting one of them and then another," Stefan points out, turning towards Bonnie. "How much time do we have?"

"Two months, approximately. But we should try and get everything ready as fast as we can. Astronomy is not a certain subject, especially at such lengths, and we could end up having both more time or _less_ time than we expect. We need to have enough to spare, should anything go wrong."

Stefan nods curtly. "I'll leave for New Orleans tomorrow, then. I'll asses the situation and draw up a plan."

"You can't go alone, Brother. I'll come, too."

"I have to, Damon," Stefan shakes his head, his tone assertive. "We would draw too much attention together, while I have some chances to go unnoticed on my own. Plus," he pauses for a second, a flicker of pain flashing through his features. "I doubt it will be a quick trip, and Elena would get suspicious at your prolonged absence."

Damon seems to still be somewhat hesitant, his lips pressed tight together in a firm line.

"If I need your help, I'll call you," Stefan reassures him.

Sighing, Damon relents, begrudgingly agreeing with a forced nod.

"You better not make us go through all this trouble for nothing," he warns Bonnie, dangerously pointing his finger at her.

"I won't. This _will_ work," she says confidently. "Get me the blood samples and I'll turn the Originals back human."

"And then we kill them," Damon adds, his trademark crooked smirk finally curving his lips.

"And then you kill them."

**:**

**:**

With more self-control than she honestly thought she possessed—because she _wants_ him, _badly_—Caroline somehow makes it until Tuesday. It's officially a week since her birthday and she finds it somehow fitting. Not that she really cares _that much_, anyway (she _doesn't_, okay?).

In all honesty, she has been very close to giving up on her–

–uhm–

–_mission_—let's say—several times, after Klaus made no real attempts to see her for the past few days since they had come back from Montgomery. In his defense, she _had_ curtly answered all of his sweet (_no_, she _did not_ just call him _sweet_!), worried texts–

(_-Klaus: How are you feeling, sweetheart? Is the mark getting any worse for you?_

_-Me: Me and 'my' bite mark are fine. Stop harassing me._)

–and ignored all of his calls, so it shouldn't have been too much of a surprise that he had decided to sort of keep his distance from her for a little while. No amount of slightly angry sex in the back of a car could ever erase the hurtful words that she had uttered as a means of self-defense, to conceal the growing feelings that she has towards him but still doesn't completely understand.

But as soon as she woke up on Tuesday, she _knew_ what she had to do, that it was the right thing. Not _seducing_ him, per se, but being the one to seek _him_ out for once. She doesn't want to stop and think about _why_ that is, but she feels like it's something that she _has_ to do, a point where she would have come regardless, sooner or later, if she doesn't want to lose him permanently, which–

–_shocker_–

–she doesn't. She's not admitting to anything yet, but Klaus has become somewhat of a constant in her life, and she currently has too little of those to risk him. And even if she's not ready to fully acknowledge them yet, the feelings for him are _there_, and she doubts that they will ever go away on their own if she doesn't at least _try_. She's honestly barely making any sense to herself, therefore all she has left to trust is her instinct—it's far from unerring, but she doesn't want to live a forever full of regrets and _what if_'s.

So she takes her car and drives to Mystic Falls, where he has told her that he intends to stay until the bite mark situation is resolved. She doesn't want to think about what's going to happen _after_ that, for it brings with it too many implications that she can't face yet, but it eases her mind to know that, at least for the moment, he's nearby in case she ever needs him.

(Not that she _will_–

–_actually, she always does_.)

When she finally parks in front of the Mikaelson mansion, killing the engine, she takes a deep breath and relaxes against the back of her seat for a few moments.

She wants to laugh because she has never actually _seduced_ anyone before, and if she seriously stops and thinks things through then it all seems stupid and silly now, standing in front of his _freaking humongous_ house with arduous lingerie underneath nothing but a light, summer dress. If she's honest with herself, though, she also knows that _nobody_ has ever wanted her as much as Klaus does, and that nobody has _ever_ made her feel as confident as he does. So it's time to show him just _how_ confident she can be.

Finally, she exits her car and walks the well-finished path that leads to the big front door. Before she can second guesses herself for the millionth time, she swiftly knocks, her knuckles barely caressing the wood of the door three times.

Immediately, she feels movement inside the house and feet quickly shuffling along the floor.

After a few moments, Klaus finally opens the door.

"_Caroline_."

He seems out of breath and not as smug as usual, confused and almost bothered at her unexpected visit.

She frowns, slightly narrowing her eyes at him—oh, don't you _dare_, asshole.

"Is everything alright?" he asks hurriedly.

"Uhm, yes."

_God_, Forbes—_fucking man up_!

"Then, I'm sorry, love, but what are you doing here?" he asks, his eyes focusing somewhere behind her, shifting around.

Caroline's eyes immediately widen, outrage obvious on her features as her eyebrows instinctively shoot up.

"Oh, _wow_. So you're free to come stalking me at my school but I can't even knock on your door?"

A small smile appears on Klaus' lips, his gaze refocusing on her. "That's not at all what I meant, love. But, you see, I don't exactly live alone."

Annoyed, Caroline crosses her arms over her chest, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Do I have to remind you that Elena and Bonnie go to the same college that I do? And that we _do_, in fact, live _together_," she retorts, somewhat pompously.

"And why, anyway, who are you hiding inside your _dark castle_?" she adds spitefully, her eyes narrowing as they cut through him like a blade. Her gaze wanders behind him, her neck tilting slightly to the side as she tries to keep the irrational jealously flaring inside of her at bay.

(_I swear to God, Klaus Mikaelson, if you have a fucking woman in there you better start running now_.)

–and she doesn't even care about how insanely crazy even only thinking that is, because—_seriously_.

After a very small pause, Klaus sighs, briefly closing his eyes and running his right forefinger down the bridge of his nose in a distressed manner.

"My brother decided I was taking too much time away from New Orleans, and decided to come check what was going on here for himself."

"Elijah?" Caroline looks taken aback, her brows furrowing together. "Doesn't he have anything else better to do?"

Shaking his head in amusement, Klaus can't help but let out a small chuckle—how does the small blonde always manage to brighten up his mood?

"Apparently, love. My brother is quite the conspiracy theorist, you see, and he didn't trust that me being back in Mystic Falls meant no trouble for him and Rebekah."

Caroline gives a slow nod. "Did you tell him, then?"

Again, Klaus slightly shakes his head. "No, I didn't; I'd rather keep this situation between us, at least for now. I simply told him that I had more pressing _matters_ to tend to here," he says, intensely gazing down at her, making her awkwardly avert her eyes from his.

"Anyway," he sighs, slightly breaking the tension that had formed between them. "That obviously was too vague an answer for him, hence why he decided to stick around for a while."

Caroline nods again, looking somewhat pensive. "Sooo, is he here right now?" she asks casually after a few moments.

Klaus gives her a confused look, before his lips finally curve up unto into a dimpled, amused smile.

"No, he is not, love."

Grinning wickedly, Caroline takes a confident step forward. "_Good_. Does that mean I can come in, then?" she innocently bats her eyelashes up at him.

Klaus gulps, his eyes shifting between her enticing, blue eyes and her rosy, full lips. There's an excited, somehow pleased glint on her features, and he has no idea what to make of it; but if this is a game, then he has every intention of playing it with her.

"Of course, love," he smirks, stepping to the side and opening the door wider, motioning her in with his right arm. "How rude of me to not invite you in."

With a coquettish smile aimed perfectly at Klaus, Caroline confidently struts past him and into the mansion.

Closing the door behind them as she turns to him, Klaus slowly appraises her, his eyes eagerly trailing up her long, slender legs and past her flat stomach, momentarily stopping on the sinuous and tempting curve of her perfectly shaped breasts, and then moving up to her bared neck showing off _his_ mark, all the way up to the soft, beautiful features of her face, void of any kind of heavy make-up (she doesn't need it, anyway) and framed by her golden locks.

When their gazes finally meet, he smirks cockily.

"Any particular reason why you came to visit me, sweetheart?"

Biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from grinning, Caroline tries to play it cool with a small shrug.

"You did say that there was something that we needed to discuss in person," she answers, reminding him of the almost ominous message that he had sent her on Saturday, telling her that they '_needed to talk_' about something important that Darlene had apparently found out about their blood bond and that he was unwilling to share over the phone. Obviously, she had immediately become worried and texted him back to meet later in the day, but he had quickly reassured her that it was nothing bad at all (which, in all truthfulness, had only made her even more suspicious) and that they would talk about it more calmly the next week.

The next week, though, had started yesterday, and since Caroline _did need_ some kind of explanation to suddenly show up at his door out of the blue—what better excuse?

Luckily for her, Klaus seems to buy it, because his shoulders immediately slump slightly, and he looks somewhat dejected at the knowledge that, after all, she _isn't_ really there just for _him_.

_Little does he know_.

"Oh. Uhm, very well then. Shall we sit?"

Caroline nods and then follows after him as he leads her into the spacious and surprisingly well-illuminated living room on the first floor. The windows are large and the curtains open, letting in the warm, delightful sunrays daring to peek through the clouds that hover darkly above Mystic Falls.

They sit opposite to each other, on two different couches, shifting and fidgeting and looking around almost awkwardly.

Surprisingly enough, Klaus is wary to approach the subject of what Darlene had told him—about the blood bond only being possible because of their reciprocated feelings towards each other. He knows that, technically, he should probably be wanting to scream it at the top of his lungs to whoever was willing to listen, but, while the mere knowledge has his heart soaring and hope blossoming inside his chest, he also knows that talks of _her_ feelings for _him_ usually end in the two of them fighting, and he doesn't want to argue with her today—he _never_ does, really—because, even if it had only been a couple of days, he had _missed her_, and he would rather not have her storm away from his house in anger at the end of their conversation.

On the other end, he _knows_ that it is not fair of him to keep any kind of new piece of information that he has about their bond and their marks from her. She deserves to know as well, because she's into it as much as he is, and keeping it hidden from her would probably only cause even more troubles and problems further along the way, when she would eventually find out on her own.

Finally, he clears his throat and starts talking.

"Unfortunately, Darlene hasn't found a way to unbind us yet; she believes that there is someone on the other side blocking her magic from doing so."

Her forehead creases in a confused frown. "What? How? And why?"

Klaus can't help the small smile that immediately curves his lips at her natural endearingness.

"She doesn't know much about it, yet. But don't worry, she's most certainly looking into it if she values her life," he smirks darkly, earning himself an unimpressed glare from the blonde in front of him.

Caroline huffs, frustration coming off of every pore as she rather ungracefully falls backwards into the soft cushions of the couch.

"Why doesn't _anything_ ever come easy for me?" she hopelessly looks up towards Klaus with big, sad eyes. "I mean, there's _always_ some kind of complication, how is that fair?"

The helplessness in her eyes makes his heart constrict painfully inside his chest; he only ever wants to see her happy and carefree, and he wants to be able to let her have any little or big thing that she could ever desire in her life.

"There's more," he adds, tentatively, his eyes moving over her face.

The way he hesitates for a moment, stops the scoff that was threatening to rise up her throat and leave her lips scornfully, like she is so used to acting when she's around him. (Although, technically, today she's here with rather different intentions than usually.)

"What is it?" she asks, almost dreading the possible answers.

Klaus clears his throat again, and their gazes finally lock together, forbidding the other to look away.

"There's a _condicio ____sine qua non_, that regards the blood bond."

Caroline frowns, her brows furrowing together in confusion for what feels like the millionth time that day.

"I'm sorry—a _what_?"

"It's Latin, love," he smirks, prompting her to roll her eyes at his all-_superior_, self-enamored attitude. "It means that there's a rather interesting condition required, without which no kind of blood bond could ever form, if not per interference of magic."

Caroline's eyes narrow suspiciously. "Alright, shoot. What's this _condition_?" she asks, somewhat wary, folding her arms over her chest and crossing one of her legs over the other.

Klaus falters slightly, swallowing as his eyes can't help but focus on the newly-exposed flesh of her toned legs.

"Eyes up here, mister," she reproaches him with an annoyed, fake cough, pointing to her face.

_Of course_, she is actually pretty satisfied with herself for getting that reaction from him with all of her clothes still on. After all, she _has_ plans for the two of them today, and she can't wait to see how he'll react at the little _surprise_ that she is wearing underneath her dress if that's what the mere sight of her still partly covered legs can do to him.

She has to keep her teeth very closed together in order to keep herself from grinning.

"So?" she presses with an arched eyebrow.

With a sigh, Klaus manages to regain some composure. _It's now or never_, anyway.

"Apparently, Darlene revealed that both parts—that would be me _and you_, sweetheart," he can't help but show off a pleased smirk. "Need to have deep feelings towards the other for a blood bond to form."

Focusing his stare on her with intensity, Klaus patiently awaits for her reaction. In all honesty, he's not even sure what he's actually expecting—Caroline is an unsolvable, ever-puzzling _enigma_ to him, that's for sure—but he still waits, his eyes catching every flicker of emotion that passes over her seemingly stoic features.

On her part, the news somehow doesn't completely shock Caroline, or catches her by surprise. The fact that she's not completely willing to admit it to anyone who is not her own mind doesn't mean that she's not _aware_ of what she does indeed feel towards Klaus. She has stopped being in total denial, it wasn't getting her anywhere anyway, now, was it? She feels more content and more herself with him than she has for a very long time, and, even if she's dead set on putting the blood bond situation behind them before things can—_if_ they will—progress between the two of them, isn't the fact that she is _here_, right _now_, with the intention of showing them both just how much they want each other, proof enough that she's the opposite of oblivious to him?

She has always known that Klaus would have wanted answers from her sooner or later; he has been pressing for them for quite some time now, since their first night together more than ever, and, now, she doesn't even have to give them anymore. Because, one way or another, he already _knows_. For her, it's a win-win situation, and it lifts a huge weight off her chest, somehow.

He doesn't even look as smug and as complacent as one would have expected, which is, too, a relief. And she _knows_ that it's because this—_she_—_matters_ to him (he matters to her, too), and he would never as much as breathe if it meant that he could possibly risk it.

The long, tense pause seems endless.

"Okay."

Caroline's voice breaks through the silence, echoing throughout the empty, spacious room. Klaus looks completely taken aback by her simple answer, as his eyes widen slightly and his lips part, almost in awe, _because_–

–_she's not denying it_.

"Okay?" he repeats in sheer bewilderment.

She rolls her eyes with a small smile on her lips, and Klaus' eyes follow her as she elegantly stands up from the couch, the way she uncrosses her legs purposefully slow before moving allowing him a peek of her soft skin under the illegally short dress that she has chosen to wear today.

"Okay," she says again, her tone more confident as she approaches him with deliberate steps.

She smiles as she brings one knee and then the other up on each side of him on the couch, folding them so that she can somewhat straddle him.

Klaus looks up at her above him in awe. This feels somehow different, but he can't exactly tell _why_. In the back of his mind, he knows that it's probably because now it's out there in the open, that, no matter what she has previously claimed, what she has yelled at him while plunging her arm inside of his chest and twisting his heart—what a _delicate_ thing it still can be, rotten and dark and _aching_ for her—around and around her merciless hand, this, between them, is _more than just sex_. But, at the same time, there's something that he can't quite understand, somehow, like a veiled, hidden secret known to Caroline only.

And isn't that the reason why he wants her, and needs her, and _loves her_ so much—that she's unlike anything or anybody else that he has ever known in his life? (And he has known _a lot_.)

She frames his face between her hands, delicately, as if he's about to disappear any moment now–

–and isn't it _funny_ how the tables have turned for this one time? And isn't it _magnificent_ that, somehow, sometimes, she feels like he's much more than what a coward like her deserves? Because he can _love her_ so unashamedly and utterly, despite all the bad, _terrible_, things that he has done, and it's nothing short of a miracle, she supposes.

Their eyes meet, and there's so much tenderness in both of their gazes that they leave each other breathless.

He's afraid to move, afraid to speak, scared that what he might do or say will send her running away from him.

Finally, she leans forward until their lips touch, gently, his upper lip trapped between hers. She sucks on it softly, licking its outline before leaving a small peck on it and then repeating the same motion with his bottom lip as well. It's all he can do to sit there, awestruck and immobilized.

Caroline's heart is beating frantically beneath her ribcage, the intensity of the moment swallowing her whole and worrying her and scaring her just enough to remind her that this _isn't_ what she has come here to do. She has given him enough of her today already, so she has no intention of making this slow and gentle—_no_.

As soon as she makes the decision, her lips engulf his in a deep kiss, his mouth opening to hers almost in surprise as their tongues duel together fiercely. With purpose, she grinds down on him, eliciting a deep moan from the hybrid, his neck bending and allowing his head to tip back in pleasure.

Almost blindly, Caroline follows towards him, their lips connecting together once more. This time, his arms immediately wrap around her figure, bringing her tightly against him. He loves how soft she feels and how sweet she smells and how fantastic she tastes—he loves _her_, and he wants to keep her forever, if she allows him.

His hands bunch up the skirt of her dress, greedy for more skin to touch, but she quickly swats them away with a mischievous grin forming on her lips.

"Ah-ah," she shakes her head, "We're gonna do this _my_ way."

The assertiveness in her tone makes Klaus gulp in anticipation, his length already painfully hard underneath his jeans. _No one_ has ever taken charge with him—not that he would have ever allowed them to, to begin with—and the fact that Caroline wants to, because she feels comfortable enough with him to, has his head spinning. His hands itch to touch her everywhere and in every way, but the desire to witness what she has in store for him—for _them_—today overrides any other thought he might have had.

To his disappointment, she swiftly leaves his embrace and her position over him to stand on her feet again. Her plump lips are curved in the naughtiest, most teasing, little smirk that he has ever had the pleasure to see, and he can't help the slight bouncing of his nervous right leg.

He _longs_ for her. _Unconditionally_.

"Before we go any further, you have to promise that you won't touch me. Not until I say that you can. Got it?" she orders with raised eyebrows, almost as if daring him to object.

But far be it from him to.

With a smirk, he nods, diligently bringing his hands clasped together behind his back, between him and the couch, as a sign of his good intentions.

"Got it, sweetheart."

His voice is hoarse and _oh, so alluring_, but Caroline wants him begging, and flinging herself at him wouldn't sit well with that, now, would it?

_Damn his fucking accent_.

"Good."

With purposefully slow movements, she brings her right hand behind her back, the teasing sound of the zip of her dress coming down inch by inch echoing in the silence of the room. Just as slowly, she pulls the dress down one shoulder and then the other, uncovering the straps of her corset. Klaus' jaw clenches as he tries to restrain himself, and she can't help but grin at the thought that _he hasn't even seen the best part yet_.

She lets the dress shim down her body agonizingly slow, one tantalizing inch of flesh at a time. She can both see him and hear him gasp as he finally realizes that she's not wearing a simple bra underneath. His eyes travel down together with her dress, which she finally lets fall all the way down to the ground, pooled around her feet.

There's a hunger in his hooded, darkened eyes that she has never seen before, not on him nor on any other guy that she's ever been with. It's like he's eating her alive simply with the intensity of his gaze taking in every inch of her lace-covered body.

When Klaus eventually brings his eyes back to her face, she can proudly say that she is, for once, not blushing. The lust and longing in his stormy eyes are mirrored perfectly in her trembling baby blue irises. Her heart is still threatening to beat out of her chest any time now, and her whole body is trembling, shaking, _buzzing_, with the need to get closer to him and feel his skin against hers. But she wants to take her time, and she _will_.

Carefully, without breaking the eye contact, she tiptoes out of her shoes, starting to walk forward towards him with small, controlled steps.

Klaus clears his throat, his eyes again sweeping over her perfect form, wrapped in red and lace like a gift meant for him only.

"I see you've been shopping, sweetheart," he comments with a raspy voice.

Caroline grins, now finally close enough to be able to rest one hand on each of his shoulders, gently, not adding any pressure, although he can still feel her burning touch through the light shirt that he's wearing. It's hard to concentrate when she's all but pushing her breasts right under his face, a teasing bow in the middle of the built-in bra that he's aching to tear to pieces.

She brings her face even closer, the slight stubble on his jaw softly tickling her mouth and cheek as she leans forward so that her lips are against his ear.

"Who says that I didn't already have this hidden somewhere?" she whispers, retaking her earlier position on his lap as her legs straddle his hips.

He shudders at the sensation, anger and an unadulterated sense of possessiveness rippling within him at the thought of Caroline wearing _this_ in front of any other man that isn't him. His jaw clenches as he grits his teeth together.

She notices the way his arms flex uncontrollably, and reminds him, "No touching, remember."

Taking her time, she starts a trail of open-mouthed kisses from the upper part of his jaw all the way down to his chin and then repeats the motion on the other side of his face. When she reaches his other ear, she decides to take away some of his misery—he deserves this one more thing today.

"But you're right," she mumbles as she takes his lobe between her human teeth and bites slightly, subsequently soothing the sting with her tongue. "I bought this just for _you_."

Klaus can't help but groan in response, his hips lifting on their own accord, trying to get closer to her and somehow relieve some of the tension threatening to explode at the pit of his stomach, the muscles of his abdomen clenching and twitching under her feathery touch.

"Now, be a good boy and let me take care of you, alright?"

Caroline moves back a bit, just enough to see him nod his head almost furiously. She smiles, satisfied, and this time decides to assault his neck, biting and sucking and licking, especially around the spot where _her_ mark is, the skin a bit colder there even if his whole body currently feels like it's on fire.

When she feels like she has finally paid enough attention to every single inch of his neck, she falls back slightly, her fingers quickly finding the hem of his shirt and her hands gliding the fabric up his torso. He raises his arms for a moment, allowing her to throw the offending garment completely off his body, before again bringing them behind his back, away from the damning temptation that is her body.

Her hands touch every inch of the newly-exposed flesh, his muscles flexing under her touch and making her smile against his skin as she leaves kisses over his chiseled chest and strong, bared shoulders.

It's like a torture and a relief at the same time, the way that she's worshipping him, his breath coming out in short gasps, groans and growls. His hands stay clasped together behind his back, nails digging into palms and drawing blood, the only way he can keep—_barely_—from reaching over for her. He's not a patient man by default, but he knows how to be when he has to—with his curse, with his family, with _her_, especially—but right now every second feels like an eternity–

–and what does that say, given that he has lived for centuries and time has never felt like a burden before–

–and he just wants to be able to touch her and hold her and take her as his already.

His body is the perfect combination of strong but slender, and she nips and licks all the way down to his tense abdomen and then the _V_ of his waistline, her hands accompanying her as she massages his prominent bulge through his jeans.

"_Caroline_–" he hisses through gritted teeth, his eyes shutting close.

She doesn't say anything, simply smirks and wiggles a bit over his lap, teasing him devilishly. After a few moments, though, she takes pity on him—well, mostly, she just _really_ wants to have him naked underneath her already—and brings down the zipper of his jeans, taking them down his legs, together with his black boxer briefs, his shoes quickly coming off as well.

He's now completely naked, still sitting on the couch in trepidation. For once in his life—although, if he's honest with himself, that's always the case when it comes to Caroline—he really has _no idea_ what is about to come next, which has him aroused and excited beyond belief, his cock, nestled between his slightly parted legs, twitching impatiently at all the possibilities.

Finally, just as her lips come down on his once again, their heads tilting and mouths parting as their tongues start their own, private dance, licking and stroking and seeking each other out desperately, Caroline takes a firm hold of his length with her right hand, her left one sneaking around his neck to keep him close—as if he would ever willingly part from her—as he growls into her mouth.

The need to touch her becomes even more overwhelming, and his hips start to frantically raise against her hand. She expertly massages him from the base to the tip and then back again, over and over and over. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he's mildly worried that Elijah might come back home at any moment, because he's actually not sure what it is that he had to do around Mystic Falls today, but the pleasure currently spreading throughout his whole body, electrifying his ever cell and his every nerve, is enough to make him forget his own name, let alone anything else that doesn't concern the blonde goddess currently rocking on top of him.

While pumping him, Caroline is also, almost unconsciously, rubbing herself against his bared leg, and he can feel the wetness seeping through her thin, barely-there panties. It's one of the hottest sensations that he has ever felt in his whole life, and it could, alone, very well make him come right there and then. He's not sure for how much longer he can actually hold back, and it's not something that he's accustomed to—the ever-powerful and in control _master of the world_.

"I want you to come for me, Klaus."

These words, once again murmured wetly against his ear, are his undoing. In the matter of a couple of moments, her hand still stroking him nimbly but gently at the same time, he comes with her name on his lips, his groans echoing throughout the whole room, mixed with her own breathless, wanton moans.

Caroline gives him a few seconds to recover, the pants escaping his lips lingering against her burning cheek, making her whole body shudder in need. She feels _powerful_, extremely so, for the way that she has just managed to have him come undone at her mercy, silently–

–Klaus Mikaelson _does not_ plead—not _yet_, at least–

–begging her with his growls and the desperate shifting of his hips up against her.

"What about this, now, love?" he asks, still gasping, breathless for her—_because_ of her—as he fingers the lace hem of her corset, one of his hands splaying against the bared skin allowed between that and her panties.

She cranes her neck slightly, almost contemplatively.

"Did I say you could touch?" she asks, big, wide, blue eyes locked into his.

Taken aback by her question, Klaus opens his mouth to speak, but doesn't have the time to utter a single word as he feels her warm, small hand come above his bigger one, guiding it all the way under her corset.

"But since you're already there," she comments innocently—although _innocent_ is the last thing that she is in this very moment.

In all honesty, she's doing it more for herself than she is for him. He's had his orgasm after all, while she's been deprived—on her request, yes, but _still_—of his touch for far too long already, and she needs it—_craves_ it—immensely.

There's really not much that Klaus can do, besides swallowing thickly as he looks up at her with hooded, awed eyes. Slowly, he moves his head towards her and kisses her, for the first time initiating the kiss himself today. They kiss languidly, unhurriedly, lips sucking eagerly, human teeth biting slightly, their tongues getting even more acquainted with each other—they have never kissed this calmly, this tenderly, and they can finally discover and pay attention to every single inch of the other's mouth for the first time.

Caroline slowly moves their hands up farther, the lace of her red teddy bunching up slightly. Much to Klaus' annoyance, it's still impossible for him to drag it all the way up and then off her body, for it's attached to the garters that she's still wearing around her legs. His free hand goes to her left thigh, still straddling over him, but she immediately withdraws. No matter how much she's aching for him at the moment, _she_ is still the one in control of this, and she has no intention of letting him forget that.

Putting enough distance between them so that they can freely look at each other, she shakes her head, a foxy smirk curving her luscious lips, wet and swollen from his kisses.

She takes both of his hands in hers, guiding them from her thighs up to her hips. Instinctively, he steadies them around her waist, making her smile as he presses her a little bit closer to him.

After a moment, she traces the front of her waistline with his fingers, bringing them to the small clasps that keep her corset and her garters together. His hands hover there for a few seconds.

Bringing her own arms loosely around him, she plays with the light hair at the nape of his neck before sliding a little closer so that she can rest her forehead softly against his.

"You can _unwrap_ me," she whispers seductively, making him shudder together with her in anticipation.

Klaus doesn't waste any time, his hands almost trembling as he finally unfastens the clips holding the two _ridiculous_—_seriously_—pieces of lingerie covering her body together. In an instant, although he still manages to do it more lovingly than she could have ever imagined, he slides the garters down her long legs.

Much to her surprise, once he's done with them, he simply keeps his hands around her thighs, softly stroking her bared skin with his thumbs, knowing that everything is up to her today—as if it isn't _always_.

Slowly retreating her arms from around his neck, she focuses his eyes into his, their gazes locking together, the sly smile on her lips promising no good.

She lifts her hips slightly and, ever so slowly, fingers the hem of her own lace panties; her movements are slow and deliberate as her hand disappears inside the red garment. Klaus can distinctively smell and, at this point, see the signs of her arousal, which has him again harden completely in the matter of a few moments. _Nobody_ has ever had this kind of power over him, and she _must know_ that she's driving him utterly and absolutely crazy at the moment.

_Sly, little thing_.

"Don't you want these off, too?" she asks in a small, sultry voice, wiggling teasingly over his lap.

His heart beats erratically inside of his chest, the feeling of currently walking around eggshells with her exciting him to no end. He can never tell whether she actually wants something from him or really doesn't, but _today_—she's coaxing him closer and keeping him at arm's length at the same time, the best representation of exactly _how_ Caroline Forbes always manages to have him lose his damn mind.

Unsure of what to do–

–and, _damn her_, because he's _the_ original hybrid, a _king_ (but she _is_ his queen, after all)–

–he takes a deep, steadying breath, fingering the hem of the lace underwear—if one could even call it _that_—that she's wearing, eagerly slipping his nimble fingers under the material.

He likes, no matter how maddening it feels, that she seems to be wanting to take it a little bit slower this time, so, instead of ripping the garment in two and tearing it away from her body like he's aching to do, he guides it slowly down her legs, one at a time, and then drops it carelessly to the ground.

The sight of her, finally almost naked above him, is a _vision_. It's like she's offering herself up to him, and it is—_she_ is—so much more than he could ever deserve or wish for. She is something that he didn't even know he was missing, _yearning_ for, and yet, there she is.

He trails his hands up her sides, reverently, disbelieving—because, no matter how many times he has had her already, it will _never_ be enough, and he will never be able to wrap his head around the fact that this is actually happening and not just a dream or a fragment of his hopeful imagination.

Slowly, he bunches up the red, lace corset, revealing one tantalizing inch of perfect, ivory skin at a time. Caroline raises her arms above her head, allowing him to take the garment all the way off her body, finally leaving her completely bare to his eager, loving gaze. His hands immediately go to her finally free breasts, palming their suppleness greedily and teasingly twirling her nipples in hard, erect nubs in the matter of a few moments. Her moans are muffled against his mouth, as she retakes his lips, needing to feel him as close as possible.

There's no more time for foreplay, now.

In a swift, but at the same time gentle, move, she raises on her knees above him and guides his erection between her slick folds, his hips pushing forward until he's pleasurably filling her to the hilt, her soft, wet walls clenching around his length, gripping onto him and somehow inviting him even deeper inside of her.

He gives them both a few seconds to get used to the overwhelming sensation of completeness finally encompassing them before finally starting a slow routine, the familiar and yet completely new rhythm of pulling out and then all the way back in again, grunt after grunt muffled against her lips, her neck, her shoulder.

However, the whimpers and sobs coming out of her perfectly parted lips quickly coax him to pick up the pace, the brown leather of the couch squeaking underneath their frenzied, passion-fueled movements.

Their combined climaxes arrive effortlessly, their wanton pants filling the air as they come together, falling spent into each other's arms. There's no need for murmured words, barely there touches or lingering stares this time, no need to give voice to what they both already know today meant.

_There's a chance_.

**:**

**:**

Stefan has been in New Orleans for the past week already, lurking in the shadows the best that he could, set on not making his presence known to the city's vast supernatural community and, especially, to the Originals.

To his huge surprise, though, no matter how much he had looked, the only Mikaelson that he had actually been able to find so far was Rebekah. No trace whatsoever of neither Klaus nor Elijah, which left him feeling rather unsettled and worried—what could ever be more important to Klaus than taking care of his very much coveted kingdom?

Finally, with a last sigh, he crosses over the bar's threshold–

–___Rousseau's_.

He has been somehow keeping tabs on Rebekah's constant whereabouts for the last few days, but this is the first time that he actually _enters_ the seemingly well-known bar, situated right in the middle of the famous French Quarter and mostly frequented by vampires.

Nobody seems to be paying him too much attention as he casually walks towards the counter and sits down on one of the empty stools.

A young, redhead waitress tends to him almost immediately.

"Can I bring you anything, Sir?" she asks him politely, although he doesn't miss the wariness rightfully dancing in her eyes.

He has gathered enough information during his furtive stay in the city to know that _no_ supernatural being steps foot into New Orleans without being summoned by the Originals right away. It's a duty that would usually befall on Klaus, but his temporary, suspicious absence means that all the power is currently in Rebekah's hands.

With an easy smile, he nods. "Scotch, neat. Thank you."

His eyes follow the girl's retreating form, straining his ears as she leaves. A frown takes over his features as he notices, with disappointment, that she simply orders a male waitress to prepare his drink and then goes to tend to another customer.

Dejectedly, he slumps his shoulders, sighing. He apparently needs a better plan to catch Rebekah's attention.

After a few moments, the waitress—_Lydia_, he reads the tag on her simple, white blouse—returns to him, his drink in one hand and an obviously fake smile plastered on her lips.

"Enjoy," she says, before again scurrying away.

Raising his eyebrows for a brief second before immediately lowering them again—his trademark annoyed expression—he releases the umpteenth frustrated sigh of the day as he brings the filled glass to his lips for a much needed dose of alcohol.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Salvatore," a familiar, accented voice says somewhat smugly from behind him.

Resting his drink back on the counter, Stefan grins before craning his neck and turning around.

"Why not?"

Rebekah rolls her eyes, feigning exasperation as a smile makes its way to her full, red lips.

"Not here," she smirks, almost goading him, and then turns to leave without another word.

Drink obviously forgotten, Stefan straightens up and wordlessly follows behind her, feeling every pair of eyes in the bar on him.

The light, cold, New Orleans breeze slightly ruffles his hair as soon as he's finally outside of the bar, Rebekah in front of him. The streets are, somehow, never too crowded at this time of the day, but the blonde original still leads the way to a much more deserted alley, farther away from Rousseau's.

They walk side by side, in silence, for a few moments, before Stefan finally speaks.

"Are you bringing me to the slaughter?"

Rebekah smirks. "Mmh, not yet," she teases, regarding him with a saucy look.

"Then, please tell me why you pried me away from a good drink."

She snorts. "Yeah, right, a _good_ drink. There was much more vervain than alcohol in that, believe me."

In a mixture of both surprise and curiosity, Stefan raises his eyebrows inquiringly.

"I had a feeling that waitress didn't like me much," he says, only half joking.

Rebekah laughs, turning her head to the side to look at him with a small but genuine smile. "It's more than that. You haven't lost your touch, don't worry," she adds, teasingly.

Quickly, Stefan understands that Rebekah isn't going to willingly let out any more information for the time being, and, knowing that he can't straightforwardly ask her anything if he doesn't want to blow his cover up and make her too suspicious, he steers the conversation elsewhere.

"Seems like I have, actually," he shrugs.

She gives him a sad smile, looking almost genuinely sympathetic.

"Is that why you came here? To escape the pain?"

He shrugs again, purposefully turning to look at her. "Maybe."

Rebekah's breath catches a little in her throat. She can't believe that she's once again ready to be second best to him, a cold comfort, but, somehow, she can never help herself when it comes to Stefan.

"Well, I can relate," she clears her throat after a moment. "But don't think even for a second that I'll play shrink for your doppelgänger problems. I hate all three of them," she recovers, scornfully—what is even so _freaking special_ about them, anyway?

"There were four, actually. Perhaps more, it's become confusing."

"_What_? What the hell did I miss?"

Stefan chuckles. "Quite a bit. But I'm sure regaining a kingdom is much more interesting," he mocks.

Rebekah gives him a narrowed look. "Don't even start; it's boring as hell, really. I couldn't care less, and yet, both Nik and Elijah left to take care of God-knows-what, and I have to watch over the city until at least of them comes back," she sighs, frustrated.

He frowns, masterfully feigning confusion. "Klaus left?"

Stuttering, Rebekah immediately realizes that she's already revealed too much. "Uhm, yeah, I don't know. Who cares," she deadpans flippantly.

"Anyway, how long are you staying?"

Eying her for a moment, Stefan sighs. "I'm not sure, yet."

"Well, however long that is, no need for tacky hotels; I have a mansion all to myself," she grins.

"Oh, is that an invitation, Miss Mikaelson?" Stefan smirks, playing along as he quirks up an eyebrow at her.

Rebekah shrugs, holding her head up high with confidence. "It might be."

Throwing the blonde one last, inviting smirk, he keeps on following her through the empty, darkening streets of the _real_ city that never sleeps.

His plan is most definitely finally _on_.


End file.
